Come What May
by DC Luder
Summary: Sixth story in the Series of Three. Not long after having their world turned upside down, the Family must face the combined threat of an old foe and friend. Chapter 13: When push comes to shove...
1. Come What May: I

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Sixth story in the Series of Three. Not long after having their world turned upside down, the Family gets life back on track… for a while.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Shout out to K-Pax and the constellation Lyra.

^V^

"A man cannot free himself from the past more easily than he can from his own body."

André Maurois

^V^

There were worse ways to spend a muggy, mid-August afternoon than dozing in a chaise while my children swam in the indoor pool. Even as they splashed, squealed and squabbled, I found myself smiling, reclining into the padded chair, eyes closed beneath dark sunglasses.

Given that the first half of the year had been nothing but Hell on Earth to those I called Family, I had begun to accept that the second half would be the opposite. Starting with Tim and Cassandra's impromptu and secret wedding, summer had been smooth sailing. For those within the manor, Mattie and Nathan were both as lively as ever, Bruce and I had never been closer and Alfred had finally found bliss after Leslie agreed to move in. Gotham was safe for the first time in six months, forever free of a certain stark-raving mad, homicidal clown. From my late night chats with Barbara over the last few weeks, the city's two protectors had only the minimal amount of scumbags to battle with.

A sigh of relief after all we had endured.

"Mom?" I heard Nathan ask, along with a significant amount of dripping water.

Opening my eyes, I noticed he was standing beside me, fresh from his latest aquatic and acrobatic feat. Since they were very young, Bruce had spent a significant amount of time teaching both of our children to swim and dive. Although Mattie preferred to practice holding her breath, her brother desired nothing more than to make the biggest splashes possible.

"You need a towel? They're over on the chair by the diving board."

"I know," he nodded, water running from his flat, dark hair, "I just… was Dad coming home soon?"

I glanced at my wristwatch, surprised to see it was nearly five. "He should be. He had a doctor's appointment after work, he said he'd try to be home before six."

Despite the warmth of the pool room, he shivered slightly, "Can we stay here until he gets home… I want to show him something."

Sitting up, I suggested, "Well, you've already been at it for an hour, kiddo. Maybe we can take a break, have a snack and then you can go back in when Dad gets here. How does that sound?"

Rather than be disappointed, he nodded again and said, "After one more cannonball."

"One more."

Nathan took off and leapt back into the pool, easily clearing his sister as she made her way to the ledge of the deep end. After calling out to him harshly, Mattie pulled herself out, quickly wringing out her hair and wrapping a towel around her bikini clad body. Bruce had been adamant that she only wear her two piece suit when it was just Family around, never when she had friends over. Not that she had many friends over lately…

As promised, and perhaps destined by the stars, Mattie had slowly shed her normal teenage life in exchange for her training with Tim and Cassandra. Bruce had stepped in at times to monitor her progress, especially in the fields of deductive reasoning and detective work. Given that she was my eldest child, I had found a way to become involved as well, teaching her how to unlock doors and safes and defeat a variety of security countermeasures. With her thirst for knowledge and dedication to her studies, I had hopes that Mattie would be ready to make an attempt on the Clocktower's defenses by the fall.

When Bruce had found out, he had naturally overreacted, claiming I was superseding his efforts. I had to give him a painful reminder that she was my daughter as well and it was my duty, as a mother, that I prepare her for the world I had brought her into. Digging my claws into the new scars that traveled up Bruce's sides, I had also added, "And you, of all people, know what I'm best at."

Case closed.

"He needs to stop doing that, I can't concentrate when he's jumping in and out of the pool all of the time," Mattie muttered as sat in the chaise next to mine.

The regrettable side effect of her determination to one day wear a mask and cape had, at times, turned her into a miniature Bruce. It had always been a concern of mine, one that I tried to nip in the bud every time it surfaced. With trips to the Preserve, afternoons spent shopping or going out with her friends, I did anything to take her mind off of the real purpose driving her Family…

"Like you didn't do the same thing when you were his age?" I countered.

"I was diving with Dad when I was six, not splashing around," she sighed, "It's annoying."

"He's your little brother, that's his job. Besides, the sun is out so that means it is time to have fun and relax, not brood and complain."

After a moment, she nodded, forcing a smirk to her lips although I doubted it had anything to do with what I had said. Luring her thoughts elsewhere, I asked about her plans for the coming weekend and if she wanted to have a party before school started up in three weeks. Although at first she had seemed reluctant, after ten minutes of talking, I had her convincing herself that it would be a fun way to end the summer.

"As many people as I want?"

"Yep. And I'll be sure to lock your father in the Cave."

Nathan, who had taken to bouncing a small beach ball on his head in repeated succession, used his six-year-old peripheral awareness while announcing, "Daddy!"

Mattie and I looked as well to see Bruce passing through the double doors. He was in the same suit he had departed in that morning, altered only in that the tie was loosened and faint stubble covered his jaw. Although Ace preferred waiting in the cooler corridor, he opted to follow Bruce into the pool room, walking a step behind him and out of the way of the cane. In the brief time the German Shepherd had been with the Family, he had bonded closely to us all, especially the children. Since Bruce's last stand with the Joker, however, Ace had taken a particular interest in him, ready and willing to save his life again.

Nathan clamored out of the pool, speed walking to his father before asking, "Wanna see my water flip, Dad?"

Bruce nodded, "Of course, tiger." Nathan patted Ace's broad head before returning poolside. I smiled to see the dog taking a moment to look from the youngest to the eldest Wayne before opting to continue following Bruce. Slowly walking towards us, Bruce barely relied on the cane Leslie and Alfred forced him to use. He had regained considerable strength in his torso and lower limbs in the last two months, having lost most of it from his injuries and weeks of bed rest. Even though he was still refusing to undergo more orthopedic surgery to gain mobility in his left leg, I still intended to convince him otherwise.

Once he had kissed Mattie's damp brow, he looked to me, "What, not up for a swim today?"

"Kittens may, but cats don't like water," I smirked, not surprised when he carefully sat in the chair on the other side of me, the big, sable dog promptly laying at his feet. Had Bruce gone for a chaise, he would have reclined and never been able to get back up, spent after another long day.

He had only just started resuming partial duties at Wayne Enterprises two weeks earlier and it was already taking its toll. His daily schedule of physical therapy in the morning at home had remained the same, but his quiet afternoons with the kids had been traded in for five hours at the office, some days even six. I knew he was growing frustrated being cooped up in the house but pushing himself mentally and physically at work wasn't the solution to his problem.

Leslie had already been forced to increase his anti-seizure medication in order to combat fatigue induced episodes. Even before going back to work, he had suffered at least two or three of the minor bouts a day but after changing his schedule, he was up to at least eight of them. His first week back had ended abruptly when he had a grand mal seizure, forcing his assistant Melinda to call the paramedics. Bruce had come out of it and regained his composure enough to decline medical transport, shortly followed by his calling Alfred to pick him up early.

Rather than be deterred, it had only seemed to fuel him. As it always had…

I reached over and touched Bruce's hand as it rested on his stiff knee, "Good day?"

He nodded, watching as Nathan made his way back into the pool with a trademark jump, "Actually, yes. Lucius and I finally broke some ground on the East End project. He's been trying to line up other corporations to pool money into it… We have Hart, Dexacorp and possibly Daggett in line with us."

"Lots and lots of money, then," I smirked. Using what happened to Bruce Wayne in Crime Alley for good, Bruce had decided to begin a massive effort to help put the East End back on track. New housing developments, better schools and recreation facilities not to mention better utilities and support systems for the families that lived there. It would take years and billions of dollars, but with the first steps scheduled that fall, Bruce was itching to get things in motion.

"It shouldn't be a project solely dependent on Crime Alley's most famous victim," Bruce replied, "It should be a city wide effort."

Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed that Mattie had flinched at her father's mentioning of Crime Alley. Before I could remark on it, she stood from the chaise and said, "I'm going to go shower."

"You done swimming?" Bruce asked her, his lips were smiling but his eyes weren't.

She took the time to walk over to him, kissing his cheek before explaining, "Yeah… for today anyway. Besides, Alfred needs his sous chef ready at a moment's notice."

We watched in silence as she walked away, her wet, bare feet impossibly soundless on the tiled floor. Ace moved slightly, as if to get up, but proceeded to rest his head back down on his giant paws. I faintly heard Nathan demanding that we watch his underwater acrobatics and turned to find him pouting in the deep end. Bruce also diverted his attention back to the pool, "All right, let's see it, Nate."

While Nathan flipped three consecutive times under water, I spoke softly, "You need to talk with her."

"I have talked to her," he answered without taking his eyes off of Nathan's fluttering shadow, "Many times."

"Bruce, talking to her and with her are two entirely different things."

He glanced at me just as Nathan surfaced, "Dad, you're not watching!"

"I am," he looked back to his son, "Let's see it one more time, then you have to get washed up. Take Ace for a walk." He waited to continue until Nathan was spinning in the water, "She says she's fine."

Fine.

She saw her father, defeated by his greatest enemy, bleeding to death.

She had ridden with him in the ambulance, watching his heart give out three times.

She had to watch him limp around, forget things he'd just been told, put his hearing aides in and endure seizures, blaming herself for everything that he suffered because of that night.

She was anything but fine.

"I wonder where she learned that motto," I sighed.

Before he could counter, Nathan climbed out, huffing and puffing/ the dog instantly jumped to his feet, meeting his young charge halfway and escorting him back to us. When they reached us, Nathan asked between pants, "Did you see?"

Bruce put on another fake smile, "I saw, that last time you did four of them."

"I know," my son's vibrant blue eyes lit up as he drew air in hungrily. When I told him to go get a towel and take Ace out, he nodded, patting the dog's head again before calling him to heel.

Alone, without the splashing, squealing and squabbling, the pool room was very quiet.

Looking to Bruce, I saw him sitting forward, staring down at his fingers as they trembled slightly. Rather than start an argument, I reached out and took his hands into mine, stilling them. "Bruce, you can't change what's happened to her, what she's seen… But you can stop her from having to go through life as you did. Blaming herself, losing herself in her work. It's bad enough we have you and Tim, we certainly don't need a trifecta in this Family."

He took a moment to respond, "I've gone over it with her, dozens of times, recounting what happened and what she saw… I keep reminding her that everything is fine. That I'm fine."

"Well, it's not enough."

"Why do you say that?"

I hesitated before answering, "She's doing it again. At night."

Bruce sighed, letting his shoulders fall back. Shortly after he had come home from the hospital, Mattie had quickly reprised her role as caretaker, even with Leslie residing in the Manor. Although Bruce had been quick to settle into his new routine, Mattie had remained vigilant and ever concerned with his well-being. I let it slide during the day, but found myself all too often losing the fight to get her to accompany me to the Preserve, or to even go outside and enjoy the warm weather. The worry that had plagued my teenaged daughter's face all summer was as difficult to bear as the reason it was there in the first place.

Given that Bruce never slept with his hearing aides and rested soundly with the amount of medications he was on, I had been left as the one that woke at all hours of the night. Before it had been his role, going to bed late, restlessly laying beside me, rising early when sleep became futile. I had made a comment about not long after he had returned home from the hospital and Bruce had told me to wake him the next time I couldn't sleep.

It had been a kind gesture, but one we both had known I wouldn't take him up on.

Not two weeks into June, I had been startled by a soft noise, drawing me from my fitful slumber. It had been Mattie, sitting on the edge of the bed beside Bruce, just staring down at him. When she had noticed that I was awake, she quickly said she had a bad dream and wanted to see him to be sure he was alive. It had broken my heart, hearing the fear in her words, coming in her soft voice. I had let her stay with us that night, hugging her close to me and making sure she slept feeling safe.

In the morning, I had convinced her to come with me for the day. As we had ridden up to the Preserve together, I had confronted her about what had happened. Mattie had confessed that every night she had a bad dream and would always sneak into our bedroom and watch him breathe. After that night, she had stopped, perhaps having been called out on it forcing her to realize how erratic her behavior was. On some level, I honestly couldn't blame her for doing so, especially since I always reached out and touched him whenever I woke from my own nightmares.

Last night, Bruce had a petit mal seizure after dinner, brought on by extra physical therapy and a longer day at WE. He and I had been sitting on the couch in the den as Mattie and Nathan fought over what movie to watch. I had hoped the mild tembling of his arms and the distant look on his face would have subsided before they had turned around. Regrettably, Mattie had looked back to ask for help with Nathan's whining, her smile quickly giving way to a look of dread.

"Dad?" she had called out, running over and drawing her younger brother's attention.

"Mattie's he's fine," I had been quick to assure her, "Just tired."

"Daddy?" Nathan had approached as well.

After I had told her to take him back over and to pick out a movie together, neither had budged, not until Bruce had relaxed and started blinking. Having lost the last twenty seconds, I reminded him what we were doing and that the kids needed to play theater director.

Bruce had paused before looking at them, "Go on, or I'll pick."

That night, she had snuck back into our room to check on him.

His sigh brought me back, "I'll talk to her. Tonight. After dinner… and maybe she needs a night off from work with Tim and Cass."

Rising to my feet, I kissed his rough cheek, "Now, was that so hard?"

As I pulled away, he whispered, "No, dear."

^V^

When Nathan and I had been getting ready to go swimming, Alfred had been on his way into the city to pick Leslie up from the Free Clinic and collect Dad from his doctor's appointment. To surprise him, I had decided to get a head start on our Friday dinner, starting off with putting a marinated beef shoulder into the oven. As it started cooking, I had quickly prepared bruschetta topped with crushed almonds and arugula along with spicy caramelized walnuts and figs in a triple crème-cheese, putting both in the fridge to chill.

After an hour in the pool and seeing Dad arrive home in one piece, I wanted to keep my lead on Alfred Pennyworth. A quick shower later, I raced back downstairs in khaki shorts and a navy blue tank top, my flip flops long announcing my arrival. Stepping into the kitchen, I smiled to see Alfred checking the entrée, nodding as it sizzled quietly.

"Went with the rosemary dressing," I offered as I joined him.

"A wise decision," he replied, closing the door in order to face me.

"And I was thinking lemon risotto. And maybe you could make the kale and pancetta side you made a few weeks ago."

Alfred's approval beamed from his face, "I could not have conjured a more perfect meal, my dear. But do not concern yourself with dessert, a patient of Leslie's prepared a magnificent plum tart… Now if you would be so kind to start a pot of boiling water, Miss Mattie."

Carrying out my task, I kept an eye on him as he removed his light cotton sweater before rolling up the sleeves of his pristine, white dress shirt. Donning his trusty green apron, Alfred proceeded to inquire as to how my aquatic adventures had gone.

"It was fun, nice to cool off," I replied, heading over to wash my hands in the deep sink.

"Quite the scorcher today," he remarked. Idle talk. At least I wasn't the only one in the kitchen with something else on my mind…

"Where's Leslie?" I asked, watching as he retrieved kale, Percorino Romano cheese and pancetta from the refrigerator.

"Oh, I believe she's freshening up. Regrettably the central air unit was malfunctioning at the Clinic today."

I could only imagine how much longer that had made her day, a warm, muggy health clinic filled with sick people…

Since it was such a nice night out, I had already decided that we would eat out on the stone terrace overlooking the back lawn. It took two trips, but I managed to take all of the dishware out to set the table for six, save for the plates. By the time I returned to the kitchen a third time, Alfred had already brought out the entrée, sliced and served it. As he finished the kale side, I retrieved the bruschetta and caramelized dishes from the refrigerator.

"I could smell this divine meal from the second floor," I heard Leslie as she passed into the room.

Turning to smirk at her, "Hopefully it's wafting to the third floor."

Alfred hesitated as he deftly spooned out equal servings of the three sides to each plate, "Miss Mattie, in case the aroma of our efforts have not ascended that high, would you be so kind as to-."

"Fetch my family," I finished for him, "No problem."

On may way upstairs, I found Kitten and Taffy sparring on the second floor landing. Much younger, my father's new feline friend wanted to play nonstop where my cat longed to sleep in front of windows and chase crumpled up paper balls at her leisure. After rescuing my childhood pet, I kissed her calico face, carrying her up with me to the third floor. Once she was secure in my room, I backtracked to Nathan's door, knocking until he called out.

I opened it and looked inside, "Nate, dinner's almost ready."

He was spinning around in his underwear, a red towel wrapped around his neck like a cape, laughing to himself. He had already bathed after swimming that afternoon but still hadn't gotten dressed. When Nathan spotted me, he paused and said, "Can I wear pajamas?"

I shrugged, "Sure, if you want." Watching him run into his walk-in closet, I waited until he emerged wearing blue flannel pants and a bright red shirt. Tim had explained earlier that year that all my little brother had been exposed to about superheroes was locked away in his mind, to be returned to him when he was older. Although he still loved capes and flying, he thankfully had no memory of being at the Watchtower nor was he able to remember learning the truth about our Family.

Six was a bit too young, especially for a wild child like Nathan…

Once he and Ace were racing to the stairs, I continued on towards the master bedroom at the end of the hall, surprised to find one of the double doors partially ajar. Seeing how my mother had caught me once again sneaking into their room at night, I was wary of simply walking in. Instead, I opted to peer in, looking and listening before leaping.

Before I spotted them, Dad's voice came softly, without emotion, "- enzymes are through the roof and the red blood cell counts are lower than they were when Leslie took them two weeks ago."

Mom then replied, "I don't understand, it's only been, what, a little over a month since she bumped you up to a higher dose. And that was after weaning you on to start with."

He cleared his throat before saying, "Well, right now, my liver is the biggest concern, anemia a close second. But with my blood pressure already on the rise, Dr. Kohl thinks it's best we take a different approach, especially since at this dose I'm still having absent seizures."

With one eye, I glanced through the small opening, finding them sitting on the edge of the bed together, my mother gently massaging his left leg. She had traded her casual attire for a sleeveless blouse and dark capris. In the time they had been upstairs, he had only shed his shoes, tie and suit coat. Apparently, he had been talking this whole time, not wanting to distract himself…

Mom stopped massaging for a moment before remarking, "Well, I vote libidolessness as a close third."

"Selina…" he shook his head

"Did you tell him about that?"

My father looked at her coldly before answering, "No. One thing at a time. And besides, that… goes along with liver malfunction. It metabolizes the tegretol and sexual hormones."

She resumed rubbing his leg, "Well, what's next then? You couldn't be on Depa-whatever, right?"

"Right, Depacote, because of the risk of hyperammonemia and my already sub-par liver."

"And no spleen," she used her other hand to poke his stomach.

He echoed her, "And no spleen."

"So, what can they put you on?"

"Well, unfortunately I have to cut this cold turkey, flush it out of my system, and then start on Phenobarbital. Mixing them and I'll be right back in the hospital…"

Last March, my health class had completed a six week course in drug identification. The word coming from my father's mouth instantly brought up quizzes about barbiturate overdoses and addiction. That and it sent a shudder down my spine.

"Side effects will practically mimic the ones I already have, fatigue, in-coordination, tremors…" he explained, "But without impacting my liver or red blood cell count as badly."

A sad look came over my mother's face, one she quickly hid with a smirk, "Well, if that's what we have to do, then that's it." She leaned in to kiss his cheek before getting off of the bed, walking out of sight.

Kitten suddenly raced between my feet, dashing into the bedroom before bounding onto the bed. Dad smirked as the little cat clawed at him between sporadic laps over the surface of the king sized mattress. When he had leapt down and took off towards the windows, I knocked on the door.

"Come in," Dad called.

I opened it the rest of the way, "Hey, dinner's ready."

"I thought I smelled something delicious," he smirked as I approached the bed.

Mom called out from the walk-in closet, "Where's your brother?"

"He headed down already…" I paused as Dad carefully put weight on his feet, using his hands to push himself to stand up. When he caught me looking, Dad offered another half-hearted smirk but before he could say anything, I pointed to his cane as it rested against the bed.

"Yes, Dr. Wayne," he picked it up and proceeded to lean on it, "Better?"

"A little," I lied.

I left them to make their way downstairs on their own, knowing they would be using the elevator where I would descend the stairs. While most of my friends were also sitting down to dinner with their families, I doubted that any of them had the same thoughts coursing their minds. Piper certainly didn't have to worry about keeping track of her father's health and Katarina didn't have to trouble herself with training for a life of crime fighting. Angie had asthma and used it as an excuse not to do anything while I spent my days hiking at the Preserve, shadow boxing in the Cave and swimming in the pool. Marc didn't have to worry about closing his eyes at night and seeing his greatest fears come back to life…

The only other soul that had an inkling of what I had been going through that summer was Terry, and even still I kept the worst of it from him.

We had a date, of sorts, planned for Saturday night. Nothing special, just movies and home made pizza at the Manor. Unfortunately, he wasn't allowed to spend the night anymore, further cemented by the bedroom door incident in July. Mom said that eventually Dad would back down from his opposing stance, especially as life continued its trek to normalcy.

Eventually, like when I graduated college.

Dinner on the terrace was nicer than I could have hoped for. In addition to the outdoor lighting, Alfred had situated small candles on the table and they flickered in the soft breeze. Leslie recounted her day at the clinic, announcing that she had delivered four babies, two of them twins. Mom rehashed what we had done at the Preserve and Nathan was reminded twice not to feed Ace under the table. I did my best to play along, talking about my weekend plans, smiling when Dad grumbled about Terry coming over and laughing when Nathan found himself wrought with hiccups.

A nice, family dinner.

"Mattie?"

I looked up from my near empty plate to see that Dad was standing next to me. Another glance around showed that everyone else was gone save for Mom and Leslie as they carried dishes into the house. As I quickly started gathering my plate and silverware, Dad briefly put his hand on mine to still them.

"You cooked, Mom is helping Nathan clean."

"No, it's okay, I don't mind…" I started to rise from my chair.

"Well, I figured we could go for a walk," he suggested, a smirk once more on his face.

Uh oh.

"Didn't you already walk this morning, with Leslie?"

Nodding, Dad replied, "Yes, but after sitting all day… I could really use it."

Reluctantly leaving my dinnerware, I followed Dad towards the stone steps of the terrace, waiting for him to get to the walkway before going down them myself. Everyday, he did flexing exercises and strength training with Leslie in the morning to regain mobility in his torso and to build up his stiff, left leg. Usually by the time he made it home from work and sat through dinner, he was exhausted and ready for bed but still braved spending time with us in the den.

After his seizure the previous night, I had figured he was headed straight upstairs after dinner.

Slowing my pace, I walked with him on the flagstone laid path that led around the house, not surprised when he branched left towards the rose garden. The only sounds aside from our footfalls were the tap of his cane and an intermittent grunt of effort. After the second surgery on his leg, Mom said he would need at least four more to regain the maximum amount of mobility. I was confused as to why he had decided not to endure them, even going as far as asking him boldly one night.

He had replied quickly, "No more rooftops for me. This," he had touched his rigid knee, "This is my reminder."

"That's a little more than a scar," I had countered, thinking back to all the times he had said his scars were mementos.

"I need a little more of a reminder," he had admitted.

With the sun setting, the roses were not nearly as full and lively as they were during the day. My work with Mom and with Tim and Cass had taken up most of my free time that summer, preventing me from aiding Alfred in tending to the various gardens on the property. Walking through the fragrant flowers, I made a mental note to join him the next time he pruned.

Although we had only been walking for six minutes, he cleared his throat before taking a seat on the wrought iron bench. As he set his cane against the arm rest, I joined him, still not uttering a word. Finally, I couldn't take it anymore, "Mom told you about last night, didn't she?"

He sat back, putting his right arm on the back of the bench behind me, "Yes, she did."

"I didn't mean to, I-."

"Mattie," he waited until I looked up at him, "It's okay."

"No, it's not, it's-.

He cut me off again, drawing his hand from behind me in order to put it on mine as it gripped the edge of the seat between us, "Mattie, it's okay. I know… I know how hard it is seeing me like this… Because it's just as hard for me. Just as it is for Mom and Alfred and Leslie…"

I thought to myself that they certainly were more capable of keeping their struggle to adapt in check but kept my mouth shut.

Dad apparently read my mind because he added, "And I know it seems as if everyone has moved on, accepted it… but they weren't there, they didn't see what you did."

Although his hand covered mine, my mind couldn't help but think back to when it had twitched as he suffered a grand mal seizure in the ambulance because a fracture in his skull…

Because he had fallen from a four story building.

Because he had faced the Joker alone.

Because of me.

"Look at me," he pleaded softly, "Mattie, please…"

I found myself admitting quietly, "It's been almost three months… and it feels like it just happened..."

Even though I had been putting on a decent brave front, he had seen through it, pulling me into an embrace, kissing the top of my head. After a moment, he said, "You'll never forget what happened, Mattie. And I'm sorry for that. But you have to understand that you can't blame yourself. Had you stayed in the Watchtower, had he never learned who we were, had you never even been born…"

Pulling away, I looked up at him, waiting for him to finish.

"If he wanted to hurt me, he would have found a way, and there's nothing you could have done to stop him. Do you understand?"

Nodding, I replied, "I understand."

He kissed my brow again, "Now… about your late shift medical rounds…" I expected him to say they were unnecessary and that I needed to stop. Instead, he offered, "At least wake me up for the next one… do a proper examination."

^V^

"Babs, get the camera, quick!"

I sat on the floor, encouraging Ethan to continue his toddler dancing to the song playing on the stereo. He was clapping his hands, giggling, stomping his little feet and shaking his diapered bottom, all in beat with the music. It was quite possibly the cutest thing I had ever seen him do.

"Babs!" I called out again for good measure.

Using the remote control from the coffee table, I keyed up the volume and hit the replay option for the satellite radio. Ethan squealed in delight as the song came on once more, putting all he had learned in his eighteen months of life to work.

I heard Barbara sigh as she entered the den, "I am not video taping him dancing to this. And he shouldn't be listening to it, he should be listening to his Wow Wow Wubbzy CD, Dick."

"No, he loves this song," I pouted at her as she approached us. After turning my attention back to my son, I grinned while singing along, "She shot me, she shot me, bang bang, she shot me, she shot me, she shot me, bang-!"

"I'm going to shoot you," Barbara growled as she took the remote away. turned the volume down and switched it to the CD function on the stereo. The upbeat, sassiness of K-naan and Adam Levine was instantly replaced with the goofy musical styling of Wubbzy, "Look look look look don't touch! Even though you want it so much!"

Where I had been disheartened by the sudden change, Ethan still continued to dance around, even singing along in his own garbled language, "Loo loo loo loo dontut!"

"See," Barbara patted my head, "He loves every song, not just the ones you do."

Rising to my feet, I brushed my slacks off with my right hand, "Just take all the fun out of being a cool dad, why don't you."

"Wouldn't want you to get your hopes up… meanwhile, it's nearly that time of day."

Glancing at the digital display on the stereo, I sighed before glancing down at my blissfully happy boy, "He has no idea it's coming, does he?"

"You wrangle, I'll prepare the bathroom."

Although Ethan had a bath every night, every Friday night made for a special evening. In addition to spending fifteen minutes in the tub playing and splashing, he had to undergo getting his finger and toenails clipped as well as his ears cleaned. Before being shot by the Joker, it hadn't been too difficult to manage seeing how I would hold him and Barbara would tend to him. Having only the use of my right arm had made things interesting, especially considering how strong our little man was getting to be.

His last doctor's appointment two weeks earlier had him at twenty-eight pounds and just over thirty-one inches tall. Physically, he resembled a two-year-old but there were times he still acted very much like a one and half year old. Great with his hands, he loved to feed himself, stack toys, carry random things around the apartment and above all else, throw balls. Whenever we visited the Manor, I loved to watch Nathan carefully playing a babied down game of catch with a plush ball. However, he was fussy when he didn't get his way, namely not getting something even if he asked for it properly with "peas". And of course, the Friday night grooming rituals.

Luckily, with my therapy going full steam ahead and the need for additional surgery looking less likely with each passing day, I would soon be able to restrain Ethan Gordon-Grayson right and proper. Until then, let the screaming commence.

I let Ethan finish his one-toddler dance party as I began picking his toys up from around the den. As he caught on to what I was doing, he began helping as well, picking toys up and putting them in his basket once I directed him to it. We had a busy night at the Clocktower, notably having Will and his girlfriend Ronna over for dinner after a long day at the Firm. Regrettably, the attack that left Will and I in the hospital had put a damper on things at work, clients hesitant to get security advice from those that were shot in their own offices.

To be fair, they were dealing with punk kids and half-rate burglars, we had to fend off a homicidal lunatic.

In order to set things right, we had been working twice as hard to assure our current client base that all was well and that we would once again earn their faith and trust. To do so, we had arranged for a banquet to be held the last week of August for current and prospective clients, pretty much a meet and greet with top notch food. In addition, we intended to openly discuss the tragic events from earlier in the year and to demonstrate a few of our own security countermeasures, of which would be made available to our higher end and more desperate customers.

When the idea had first come up during lunch back in July, Will had even suggested we go in topless, showing off our scars.

I had countered, "Well, no more French Dips for you then, pal."

He had naturally quipped, "And no more double Reubens for you, chief."

Although we had been close since day one, Will and I had grown that much more since Tim had inducted him into the Family in the midst of Joker's reign over Gotham. The veil had been dropped, leaving literally nothing between us. He had claimed that he had his suspicions, evident from three key factors. First, how quickly we had all changed in demeanor the very second the Joker had escaped from Arkham. Second, our combined frequent absences and generally poor mental and physical condition. He had joked that the third factor had been that were all kung fu masters.

Much like Jim Gordon, he had once been a damn good detective and no matter how hard we had tried, he had been able to see through it.

One night, not long after we had finished moving him into Tim's old townhouse, we had spent the night drinking imported beer and eating grilled meat on the back terrace. It was a luxury I had rarely allowed myself, namely because I had spent nearly every day of my life counting the hours until dusk fell. With Barbara and Selina having a girl's night at the Clocktower, Tim and Cass lost in newlywed bliss and Bruce home alone with the kids, I had sought refuge with Will.

Amidst the bottles of Beck's and a perfectly grilled rib eye a piece, he had confessed to me that being nearly the same age had left him practically worshiping the Boy Wonder. How he had cut out articles of me, blurry photographs, had even forced his mother to make him a Robin costume for him to wear long after Halloween had passed. I had listened quietly as he went on about how he had always dreamed of being a superhero, but when reality sank in, he had opted to be a police officer.

After a sad sigh, he had chuckled, "And it turns out I didn't have to choose, look at you… you did both."

"Yes, I did," I had replied, flipping a bottle cap back and forth over the knuckles of my right hand, trying not to think about my left hand as it sat limply in a sling, "But you were married long before me. Had two beautiful girls… You went to bed, woke up in the morning, didn't have to count the bullet scars when you looked at yourself in the mirror… I had to wait. I had to wait so long to be happy."

"You weren't before?"

I had shrugged before answering, having to fight back images of fallen allies, old and young, "Don't get me wrong, I love what I do. Who I am. My Family… it's just… it's not an easy life. Every time you put on a mask… it makes you ask if you made the right choice, to take that step."

"And?"

Turning to look at him, a trademark smile on my face, I had answered him, "And thankfully, I can always answer… yes. A thousand times yes… Now, if I had known we were going to be having girly talks, I would have stayed home and gotten a pedi from my wife."

Will had smirked at that before responding, "I've seen you in flip flops, I'm not sure she would touch your feet."

It was no wonder we were best friends…

Somehow, Barbara and I had started acted like a normal couple again, partially indebted to the fact that Ethan was in our lives but mainly because we were no longer being hunted by the Joker. We alternated Friday night dinners between the Clocktower and Will's place, took Ethan to play dates at a local child care center and flipped coins on diaper change duty. Sundays were generally reserved for treks up to the Manor so that he could see his grandparents and spend some time with his under-aged aunt and uncle. We had even started calling Alfred and Leslie his great-grandparents, of which Nathan was quick to rename as "Peanut Grandparents" while his father and mother were "Plain Grandparents."

With that creativity, he was going to make a damn fine Robin some day.

Although I was still on the mend, I kept up as much as I could with Tim and Cass, whether it be hanging out in the Clocktower's training bay or visiting them at their new home in Bristol. Some nights, I even made the effort of listening in on the Oracom, offering my usual playful banter. It was only Tim, Cass and Babs on the communication line and none of them were nearly as clever or witty as I was. As expected, Bruce had withdrawn from his late night eavesdropping, focusing more on his recovery and his daughter's training than grunting and snipping on the comm. link.

It was unreal to me that after all Mattie had done with each of us over the years, Bruce had finally made it official. It had started when she was six years old, practicing gymnastics with me and combat with Cass in secret. He had to have known from the start that she was born to be draped in a black cape, covered in Nomex and Kevlar from the neck down and, of course, with a mask covering her bright blue eyes.

It had been a Family joke since she had been born that frigid day in January thirteen years earlier. It wasn't until recently that we had come to realize that she wasn't meant to be a Robin. Mattie had taken it upon herself to prove to us that she was meant to be the Huntress. Something Helena would have laughed about to no end…

"Dick, tub's ready!" I heard Babs call from the bathroom.

Looking down, I smiled at Ethan as he started to pull toys back out of the basket, quickly finding his plush police car that Trey had gotten him in March for his birthday. I bent at the waist and kissed his caramel colored hair before whispering into his ear, "Rubber Duckie, you're the one…"

He scrunched his shoulders up and suddenly spun around to face me, his tiny little teeth exposed in an evil smile.

I continued, "You make bath time lots of fun… Rubber Duckie, I'm awfully fond of you…"

Ethan proudly called out, "Woo woo be doo!"

After picking him up, I continued singing loudly, carrying him down the hall, "Rubber Duckie, joy of joys! When I squeeze you," I promptly hugged him tighter, "You make noise! Rubber Duckie, you're my best friend, it's true!"

He cried out again as we reached the open door, "Doo doo doo dooooo!" Letting him down on the tiled floor, Ethan ran to Barbara, hugging her legs, "Doo doo doo dooooo!"

"Very good," she leaned over and kissed his head before pulling his tee shirt off.

I cleared my throat from the door, "You want to do this, I'll get the kitchen?"

Babs looked up at me before nodding, "Sounds good to me. I'll let you know when he's ready for medieval torture."

"Rodger that," I said before returning towards the front of the apartment.

Before making my way to the front of the apartment, I opted to change out of my work clothes and into sweats and a tee shirt. Mere weeks ago, it would have been an agonizing task but after diligent work at the physical rehabilitation center, it was tolerable. I was due for an evaluation at the ortho clinic in two weeks, something I was excited for and yet dreading. To date, the nerve graphs in my shoulder had remained intact and viable and my last MRI had shown little to no inflammation in the vessels and muscles.

If I could cut short my immobilization period, I could start rebuilding strength and flexibility in my arm and then tune up reflex times and get back to the life I loved. Race over rooftops, soar from skyscrapers, one-punch some deadbeat loser. I dreamt of the next time I could put my mask on, feel the cold wind wash over me and hear the sound of my feet on the pavement.

Sighing, I put my arm back in its sling.

Soon, Boy Wonder, soon.

It took nearly twenty minutes to clean up the kitchen, run the dishwasher and put the remnants of apple crisp in a Tupperware box. I made it back to the bathroom just in time to see Babs helping Ethan out of the tub, wrapping a big, green towel around his little body. In minutes, he would be wiggling and crying in my arm as his mother carefully and quickly clipped his nails and swabbed his ears.

He would love us afterward, treated for being so brave by sitting on the couch with us for a little bit of TV time. Snug in his jammies, he would still cuddle for warmth, either crawling on Babs' lap or trying to sit behind me. Even though he would be tired, he would still whine about going to bed, but would eventually fall asleep in the crib I had assembled seemingly so long ago…

I had never seen myself as a father.

Combining what I had learned from my own late father and from Bruce and considering the smile Ethan beamed up at me when I sang the Rubber Duckie song, I seemed to be doing all right.

^V^

"Are you making... homemade mac and cheese?" I asked myself, following a heavenly aroma into the kitchen.

Despite the fact that I had a filling lunch with Dick and Will as per our usual Friday routine, I had found my mouth watering upon entering the house. I had stayed late to work out a few kinks in planning the Firm's upcoming banquet, leaving Cass to head home to tend to Robbie and pick something out for dinner. I had expected to arrive to takeout, possibly pizza from Santo's, but what I had found was far more appealing.

Cass was at the oven, checking the bubbling, cheesy masterpiece. As she turned to glance at me, she smirked, "Alfred's recipe."

Removing my suit coat and tie, I set them over the back of a stool, "He gave it to you?"

She nodded, closing the oven door, "Just have to ask nicely."

Hesitating, I forced my face to look solemn before asking, "I see you ask nicely to criminals every night."

Smirking, Cass shook her head, "I meant ask nicely for real. Not with my fists."

As Robbie raced into the kitchen and slid to a stop at my feet, I rubbed his wrinkled face as he snorted and whined simultaneously. The Boxer wiggled with excitement, from the tip of his nose to the nub of his tail. When I stopped petting him, he circled around me as if ensnaring me. Narrowly avoiding being tripped by the big brindle dog, I approached Cass, looking through the glass window of the oven before remarking, "Good, was a little worried for the old man for a second."

When I stood upright, Cass kissed my smooth cheek where not three months earlier the Joker's last shot seared my flesh. I had wanted to keep the scar as a visual reminder that it was the last time he would hurt anyone but Bruce had convinced me otherwise. Cass had pleaded with me from day one to have it altered cosmetically, but seeing Bruce bed ridden and permanently crippled from his final encounter with the Joker, his words had sunk in a little deeper.

"Isn't that the pot calling the kettle black?" I had asked him, nodding to his elevated leg.

Bruce had stared at the immobilized limb for a moment before replying, his eyes locked on mine, "Whether we can see them or not, we will always remember how he hurt us. The first time, the last time and every time in between."

He always had a way of making his point impossible to refute...

"Did you get the caterer in line?" Cass asked as she leaned against the kitchen counter.

I nodded, "Yeah, he wanted more money. Dick said no, Will said he wasn't paying so he didn't care. I said fine but we wanted another table of hors d'ouerves."

"Mediator."

"Problem Solving for Business. Got an A in that class. B- in Developing Legal and Ethical Environments in Business though."

"Is that why you watch me when I bend over to fill the copier?" she raised a single eye brow at me.

"Busted," I smirked back. "How long until that's ready?"

She shrugged, "Another ten minutes. Then it has to cool."

I kissed her cheek before saying, "I'm going to change quick, then we can eat… then you want to head over early?"

"You can go early, I'll tire Robbie out a bit."

"Good luck with that," I remarked. Grabbing my tie and jacket, I made my way towards the back of the house and up the stairs. Although my childhood bedroom had been on the first floor, it seemed odd to use it as a man grown, especially since I had the most awkward and painful adolescence in the history of the world. The true master bedroom, that my father had shared with mother and later with Dana, was also off limits. Save for the clothing and personal items I had put into storage, I had left it as it had been, making it a guest room if needed.

I had chosen to make the largest spare room ours. It had a full bathroom with white and blue tiles and a bay window, a small terrace that over looked the pool and a spacious walk-in closet. Robbie's bed sat at the foot of ours, pointlessly given how often he slept at our feet, even under the covers if he was ambitious. Prior to moving in, we had spent and afternoon feverishly repainting the peach colored walls a bold red with black trim and a white ceiling, moving furniture around and making it ours.

Seeing how Cass had the upper hand being in the kitchen and nearest to his dog food, Robbie had remained downstairs, forcing my trek to be carried out in solitude. Reaching the new master bedroom, I instinctively plugged my cell phone into the charger and emptied my pockets before stripping out of the rest of my suit. I hated having to dress up, longing for the business casual days the firm had once thrived in. Our new goal to promote our professionalism had taken its toll and its victims were my Henley shirts and mismatched socks.

I proceeded to don jeans, a pair of worn Sambas and a faded blue polo. Removing my wristwatch and wedding band, I set them in a small glass dish on the center of a credenza opposite our bed. To the left of the bowl were a number of photographs of Mattie and Nathan and one of Ethan in a Winnie the Pooh outfit. The right of the bowl were several pictures from our wedding, including one from the park of us on the swings. In addition, there was one of a seven-year-old me sitting on my mother's lap as well as a picture of Dad and Dana from my college graduation party.

The good old days.

Without letting myself flashback to finding them that night at Smith & Wollensky's, I jogged back downstairs, putting on a smile as I entered the kitchen once more. Robbie was nosily pushing his stainless steel bowl around with his nose while Cass carefully scooped out steaming macaroni and cheese, topped with perfectly browned bread crumbs. I quickly fed the dog to sate his deep-seated hunger and proceeded to let him out to romp in the yard.

After much debate, we had an Invisible Fence installed so that we could better contain his very free spirit. Far too often I had let him out at night only to have him take off after a deer or attempt to join a pack of distant coyotes. Cass had asked why our boy had to be electrically fenced in when Ace was perfectly capable of maintaining his own perimeter. I had demonstrated by saying that Ace was trained to perform over twenty commands without hesitation, in German.

I had then looked to Robbie and told him to lay down. Instead of lowering to the hardwood floor, he had spun around twice, leapt onto the leather couch and nestled up against the armrest.

She had still defended him, "He technically did what you told him to."

When he came racing back inside the house, I took his collar off and followed him back towards our dinner. Where Robbie had been able to inhale his kibble down in seconds, I was forced to wait to prevent burning my tongue and the roof of my mouth. Rather than actually use the dining room, Cass and I ate in the den, sitting on the couch with our feet on the coffee table as the six o' clock news began. Although our days were as humdrum as they came, an hour of dinner and TV was the last normal thing we shared together each day.

As the news anchors recounted the events of the week along with those that had transpired that day, I found nothing of interest and decided to multitask. I alternated mouthfuls of cheesy bliss with working on my laptop as it sat on the arm of the couch. Since I had left work, I had six new e-mails in my Firm inbox, none of which bore any degree of importance save for one. I clicked it, always happy to hear from one of our prestigious clients, the District Attorney of Gotham City:

**To: Drake, Tim J.**

**From: Bryce, Tim L.**

**Re: RSVP**

**Hey there, figured I'd drop you a note quick seeing how I lost the RSVP card for the DJG Firm banquet. Count me, and Dana, as being both in attendance. If Dr. Thompkins is going to be there, could we be seated with her? If not, we can sit with the Commissioner and the Hizzoner. Much obliged, sir!**

**Sincerely,**

**Timothy L. Bryce**

**District Attorney**

**Gotham County Court House**

I had always found it interesting how many ways my life had crossed paths with Mr. and Dr. Bryce. By day, I managed their home security account for the Firm, had gone to his house to listen to his personal fears of an attack by the Joker and had even been responsible for him getting a dog. He was a pleasant man despite the demand placed on him by his work, and the same went for his wife.

When the sun set however, we were that much closer. Dr. Bryce had treated both myself and Cass for grievous wounds, when Zsasz had tried to fillet me and when the Joker had shot her. She had practically taken over the Free Clinic in the six months Leslie had been in Sierra Leone, diligently taking the overwhelming responsibility of doing what she could to help countless in need. As for her husband, he and I had shared many rooftop meetings at GCPD, both with and without Commissioner Kelsey.

They both had once been saved by Batman while being mugged.

But not by me…

"Heading over?" Cass brought me back?

Closing the Macbook, I nodded, "Yeah… probably should." I patted my stomach before continuing, "Let this digest while I sit in front of a much cooler computer."

"I'll be over in a few. Beat up the child before suiting up," Cass rose to her feet, taking my dish and spoon.

I stood as well, "Poor child… Well, be sure to ask Alfred nicely next time for his pork tenderloin. This was delish."

Cass smirked before shooing me, "Suck up."

The underground tunnel that traversed from beneath the Drake house to the Cave had originally started in a well. After much debate, I had finally built an outbuilding to cover it, deftly outfitted as storage for lawn equipment. The floorboards rose hydraulically after a biometric scan and pass code was entered into what appeared to be a Craftsman tool storage unit. The walk was long and quiet, giving me ample time to shed the thoughts and concerns of Tim Drake.

I was at the computer console by ten of seven, physically and digitally alone seeing how Barbara had yet to sign on from her workstation. After ten minutes of the keyboard clattering beneath my fingertips, someone had decided to keep me company.

"Was wondering when you were going to show up," I said without looking behind me.

Mattie came to stand beside me as I continued outlining patrols to upload to the 'Mobile. She glanced up at the digitalized map of Gotham's infamous Bowery before commenting, "I think… I think I'm going to take a night off."

I let my eyes tear away from the screen only to find far too much sadness in her blue eyes for my taste, "You sure?"

Nodding she replied, "Yeah. Think I'll hang out with Mom and Dad for tonight."

I couldn't help but feel the tug of concern in my gut, "He all right?"

Mattie nodded again, "Yeah, it just… I don't know," she closed vaguely with a shrug.

Not wanting to force her into second guessing such an important decision, I smirked, "No problem, don't worry about it."

She glanced around the vacant Cave in all directions before asking, "Where's Cass?"

"She was taking Robbie for a walk, then she'll be over soon… figured I could get a jump start on things tonight."

"Anything fun?" Mattie was quick to ask.

"Nothing special. Usual cowardly and superstitious lot."

"Bummer," she remarked with a sly smile.

I had to admit, having her so openly and religiously involved in the masked half of my life had not been as big of an upheaval as I had expected. Truthfully, she had always been there, ready and waiting. Her extreme actions earlier in the year of sneaking out of the Manor in her hand made guise and "borrowed without permission" motorcycle had proven she had the finesse, just not the common sense. She, like most teenagers, thought she was invincible.

It was my job to show her otherwise.

After Christmas the previous year, Bruce had briefly tested my ability to school a pupil. Although that had been the reason he had given me, deep down, I had wondered if he simply wanted to test his own abilities. Cut short by the Joker's escape, I had rarely met with Bruce to do anything but deliberate over the meager evidence we had collected. At the time, I had thought that he needed to focus his energies elsewhere, which had made complete sense.

That was before Huntress had been killed for no reason, Dick, Will and Cass had been shot, Dad and Dana had been slain and I had done the one thing I had thought impossible. I had failed Bruce. I had given him back the cowl when he had needed me most, forcing him to do the one thing he had thought impossible.

Putting the cowl back on, facing the Joker one last time.

Mattie's sigh brought me back, "Well, guess it's a good thing, that it's quiet."

"I like to think so, too. Your Dad never did."

"Really?"

"He used to pretend he was angry but I knew it was because he was restless. Even on most quiet nights, he'd be out at all hours, trying to find the minutest crime to stop." I had kept a final thought to myself, that Bruce literally couldn't accept that the city was safe, knowing his parents had been murdered under the same false pretense.

Shaking dreary thoughts from my mind, I turned the chair to face her, not surprised to see her dressed in shorts, tank top and flip flops. Her skin was raised in goosebumps but it was hard to tell if it was because of the chill in the Cave or her seemingly endless excitement to be at my side. Where my work with her father had gone to the wayside, it seemed that Cass's efforts with Mattie had quadrupled. Dick and I had remarked once that skill wise, she was on par with us when we had first donned capes and masks, a direct result of her genetics and environment. It honestly wouldn't take long for her to be truly ready to head into the city to do shadow work, another six months at most before she was ready for real action.

When I had started her formal training earlier that summer, Bruce had been adamant that she needed a year of daily work before he would consider letting her go out with us to patrol. Cass and I had mused nearly every night on how it would be great to have another set of eyes out with us while Dick recuperated, and even after he came back. The lack of a Robin in the seven years since I had taken up the cowl had been easy to ignore at first but in recent years it had been sorely evident. After all, who was Batman without a young sidekick to keep him grounded?

Although where Cass was more than excited for her protégé to join our ranks, I was still a little uneasy. It wasn't a child I had met at the age of ten or a street kid I had adopted out of the good of my heart or even the geeky kid next door. This was a child I had watch grow from infancy to teenage hood. This was my mentor's baby girl, his kitten. Looking over her as she studied the monitor with a little smirk tugging at her lips, I couldn't fathom finding her injured after a fight or having her be kidnapped to lure me into a death trap.

Maybe six months was optimistic. Maybe Bruce was right, she needed at least a year.

For my sake, not hers.

^V^

For Master Nathan's sixth birthday, he had received an abundance of sports paraphernalia from his extended Family.

Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra had outfitted him with a new set of football padding and equipment to ready the young boy for his debut in the Junior Pee Wee League tryouts in the coming weeks. Master Dick and Ms. Barbara had provided him with a day at Gotham Stadium the weekend after his actual birth date, even arranging for him to be the Bat Boy for the first inning for the home team. From his sister, he had been bestowed World Cup paraphernalia, including the controversial new soccer ball. His mother had also followed the theme, giving him his own set of miniaturized snow shoes and cross country skis for the coming winter.

The boy's father had been the only one to go the academic route, purchasing for him a telescope.

Given my abhorrence to technological necessities, even I was impressed with the device. Where it offered the user to manually operate and search for specific stars and constellations, it also provided digital programming, requiring only your location and what you wished to see. Once it was lined up with a base star, it automatically located what you desired amidst the hundreds of thousands of flecks in the night sky. When timed correctly, it even offered views of Saturn, its moons as well as closer orbs, such as Mars. When Master Nathan had first found the distant red planet, he had quickly asked me if he would be able to see Martians.

"Only if they are en route, sir," I had quipped.

Even after a month had passed, the child still was fascinated with the device, although I was uncertain if it was the sights he was able to see or the fact that he was able to sit on his father's lap while seeing them. In the time since the young master had been born, so much had changed and so drastically that it was difficult for him to garner the attention he not only craved, but deserved. Thankfully, with his down time of late, Master Bruce had been able to make strides to right the imbalance.

After our pleasant dinner on the terrace, I had supervised Master Nathan aiding his mother in tending to the dishes. Given his rowdy nature in contrast to his sister's willing one, Ms. Selina had decided it was time the boy took on responsibilities in order to set a better model for later life. Although he enjoyed helping make desserts and treats, he showed little interest in cleaning and keeping things neat, a trait his mother had confessed to passing on to him.

"Cat's nest, Alfred," she had explained, "We don't clean."

Having raised two boys to adulthood under the roof of Wayne Manor, I had never instilled said responsibilities into their upbringing. I never punished Master Bruce for breaking vases or mirrors in bouts of rage nor did I ground Master Dick for climbing onto the rooftop. At the time, I had felt it wasn't my place to reprimand them given what they had endured in their short lives. Hindsight had proved otherwise, looking back leading me to believe that had I set stricter parameters, they could have grown into different men.

It was difficult to imagine them any other way.

"All done," Master Nathan proudly boasted as he offered me the spatula he had diligently dried for more than a minute.

After feigning a thorough inspection and an equally fake look of scrutiny, I smirked at him, "Well done, sir."

Master Nathan then looked to his mother as she supervised from further down the counter, "Can I go upstairs, now?" She offered him a curt nod and he instantly took flight, racing out of the room with his canine companion following close behind him.

Just as silence fell over the kitchen, it was interrupted once more, albeit in the form of Miss Mattie. Before either myself or her mother could chase her out, she offered, "Just want a glass of water."

"Good, because that's all you're getting," Ms. Selina responded.

Before the young lady fetched a glass from the cupboard, she stuck her tongue out at her mother, battling a grin while doing so.

I quickly retrieved the carafe of ice water from the refrigerator, "I take it Mr. and Mrs. Drake have yet to make an appearance downstairs?"

She allowed me to at least pour the water for her, "Actually Tim's downstairs. I told him we had leftovers but he said he ate already, that Cass made dinner."

Returning the pitcher, I smiled, knowing that Ms. Cassandra had asked for a number of recipes to prepare for their evening meals as to not rely on take out menus or what I brought down to the Cave for them. Given that she was by no means a conventional woman, Ms. Cassandra did desire to take on some domestic duties, of which I had thought to be a result of her recent unconventional marriage. I had inquired as to if she truly wanted to make the effort or if she felt as if she was being pressured to pursue them.

To my relief, Ms. Cassandra had shrugged, "Being married hasn't made it any different. Just want to make Tim happy after what happened, take his mind off of it."

Her efforts were minute in the grand scheme of things, but I knew they would be appreciated by her other half. I was grateful to have witnessed their evolution as they had pushed past their early years as fellow sidekicks into young adulthood and then on to courting and marriage. Much like the other members of the Family, they shared more differences than similarities and yet they had more than surpassed such hurdles. They had soared over them, rewarded with love everlasting.

As for myself, I had reached the same result although rather than battling the odds, I had simply waited. Leslie and I had shared a long, trying relationship that had been granted numerous peaks between a series of lows. Even long ago when my only charge had been a much younger Master Bruce, it had been difficult to remain close with her as his well being had come first.

It had seemed that as the years had passed, our lives had only grown more complicated given the number of others that joined Master Bruce in his quest. There would be a time, I had kept reminding myself, that the Family would become closer than ever, when there would be more smiles than frowns and new faces, young and old. When they were happy, we would be as well.

Miss Mattie's voice drew my attention, "Maybe I can bring him some of the plum tart?"

"That's a good idea, and the ice cream should still be soft enough to scoop," her mother was quick to suggest.

I allowed Miss Mattie to once more retrieve the necessary dishware as I stepped in to slice the tart and plate it for her. She made a comment about being sneaky, and I replied, "In all honesty, miss, you are not supposed to be in the kitchen to begin with, let alone serving others."

"Can't a girl bring her teacher dessert without getting harassed?"

"No, my dear. She can not."

Once she had departed, Ms. Selina smiled while saying, "That girl… she's going to be a whole mess of trouble."

"I look forward to it, madam, keeps me young at heart."

She laughed at that before leaving me with, "Thank you, Alfred."

"My pleasure, dear."

Alone at last, I gave the counters a final wiping before admitting defeat, leaving the kitchen after shutting the lights off, save for those above the sink to act as a beacon. I had intended to direct the elevator to the second floor so that I may finally take my leave for the night, settling in with Leslie for a much needed rest on both our parts. Instead, I had accidentally hit the button for the third floor and as the car rose silently, I wondered if it had been on purpose after all.

Without hesitation, I made my way to the master bedroom. With the double doors both wide open, I passed through with ease, following the quiet and excited words of a six-year-old astronomer. Watching from just inside the terrace doorway, I couldn't help but smile at the scene before me. Seeing moments between father and son often reminded me of a different father and different son. Thankfully, there would be many more years shared between Master Bruce and his child than those that had lapsed between himself and Master Thomas.

But where a young Master Bruce watched The Grey Ghost, Master Nathan preferred televised American football games...

"Is it Scorpius or Scorpio?" Master Nathan asked, sitting upon his father's lap with his gaze never leaving the telescope.

Master Bruce was quick to explain, "Technically, it's Scorpius, but it can be called Scorpio."

"Oh… Can we find Hercules?"

"Sure… let me see for a second," Master Bruce waited for Nathan to slip off of his lap before adjusting the telescope.

As he stared up at the night sky, his head tilted uncomfortably back, Master Nathan said, "Alfred, we found Liar." He hesitated before pointing upwards, "See, it's right there."

I looked as well, not seeing anything more than clear skies. I then suggested to him as I stepped onto the terrace, "Do you mean the constellation Lyra?"

"Yeah," he nodded before looking to me, "Lyra. Dad's going to find Hercules."

"We're going to try, it's not really that dark out yet," Master Bruce responded, still dutifully adjusting the telescope.

Master Nathan leaned against his father's arm, trying to join him in peering through the lens. He proceeded to whisper something into his father's ear, and when Master Bruce nodded, the boy promptly climbed back onto his lap. After locking the telescope in place, the boy took over the task of observation, humming to himself before crying out, "Herculeeeeeeeees!"

Leaning back in the chair, Master Bruce nodded, "Yes, Hercules." With his child occupied, my charge looked to me, "Dare I ask where the women are?"

"I believe Ms. Selina is on her way up and your daughter was tending to matters downstairs."

Nodding, he then directed his attention back to his son, "Ten more minutes, tiger. Then it's bedtime."

"Hercules doesn't have a bed time," the boy grumbled, "Neither does Shere Kahn."

"No, they don't, but you do."

I waited for there to be another rebuttal, but was pleased when there wasn't. "Well, Master Bruce, you seem to have matters under control. If you require assistance, I shall be in my quarters."

He turned once more, barely able to hide the fatigue layering his face, "Thank you, Alfred…. Nate, say good night."

Master Nathan looked back at me and grinned, "Night, Alfred."

"Good night to you, young sir."

Making a second attempt at heading to my quarters, I was stopped once more, although it brought another smile to my face. Miss Mattie, instead of spending her evening in the Cave as she had all summer long, was walking towards me as I descended the stairs to the second floor. Before I could inquire as to her intentions, she asked, "Are Dad and Nate still on the terrace?"

"But of course, they've just located the star hewn Hercules. I take it you are not undertaking gladiatorial training this evening?"

Smirking, she shrugged, "Figured it was okay to have one normal night. With Dad."

"A very wise decision, my dear."

"Thanks," she smiled as she passed by. Before entering the master bedroom, she looked back to me, "G'night, Alfred."

"Sleep well, child."

When Leslie had decided to head upstairs shortly after dinner, exhausted after a long week at the Clinic, I had promised to join her within an hour. Glancing at my pocket watch, I sighed to see that it was just before nine-thirty as I reached the second floor landing. Only ninety-one minutes late.

Opening the door, I was surprised that the lights were still on. I had expected to find her already settled into bed but she was sitting on the far side of the expansive room, reading through a folder of materials. Soundlessly closing the door, I approached but Leslie didn't look up until after I had taken a seat beside her.

As she went about removing her glasses to rub her nose, I asked, "Casual reading?"

"I wish," she responded, closing the file, "Bruce brought home his blood work from his appointment."

Her tone was unsettling, although I kept mine steady, "And?"

Leslie shook her head, setting the folder on the end table, "I thought we were doing okay… but now we're back to square one."

She explained that the anemia had worsened and that his hepatic enzymes were on the rise. Adding to the fact that he was still suffering seizures on the higher dose of medication, the next step would be cleansing his system of the Tegretol in order to start him on barbiturates. I remained silent for a moment before reaching over and taking her hand into mine.

"A hurdle, one far easier to overcome than those that have come before."

Leslie sigh before looking down at my hand as it barely held hers, "Stiff."

"A bit," I remarked, "But no worse for the wear."

"I'll go get some liniment from the bathroom," she started to rise but I stilled her with a soft look. As she sat back, she turned to face me, gently using her other hand to massage my old fingers, "You needed more time off… To rest… That's why this year away was so important."

"A good three and a half months," I commented, "For me and for this Family, that was more than enough."

She fell silent again, her deft fingers slowly bringing circulation to mine. After a moment of silence, she responded, "You do too much, Alfred. You always have. Push yourself, always thinking of everyone else."

"And just where did you think Master Bruce learned it from?"

That brought a smile to her lips briefly.

Without notice, I leaned in and kissed her.

The smile returned, lasting much longer.

^V^

"Too bad the Bat-signal didn't come on, that would have been cool to see up close."

As I put the cover over the telescope, I looked over my shoulder and glared at my daughter as she leaned against the door frame.

"Just saying," she smirked back at me.

I turned around, trying to put a minimal amount of weight on the cane as I approached her, "First of all, it is never cool to see the Bat-signal. Second, your brother is still running around, so watch it."

"Yes, Dad," she said apologetically, standing up on her tip toes to kiss my cheek as I passed by. She closed the terrace door after me, "Mom said she needs back up in Nathan's room."

"And you didn't help?" I asked as I began to cross the room. Kitten had been sleeping in the chaise and as I passed him, he instantly sprang to life, racing across the carpet before clamoring into the hall.

When she joined me to walk at my side, Mattie replied, "She said she needed professional help. I'm still an amateur."

I shook my head, "You're something all right."

Mattie escorted me down the hall, stopping at Nathan's door and letting me enter alone. I paused to look down at her and she was quick to offer, "I've got your back, Dad."

Typically speaking, bed time was either a breeze or an abattoir with my youngest son. Most days, especially during the summer, he was exhausted after playing and swimming and pretending that the main staircase was a mountain that he climbed on his hands and knees. After a bath and brushing his teeth, he often raced around his room, catapulted from his exercise trampoline that Dick had given him years earlier and caused general havoc on the third floor. My institution of nightly stargazing, weather permitting, was to instil a quiet time before he settled in for bed.

I knew we shouldn't have looked for Hercules.

When I had sent him to go get ready, I had failed to take into consideration that he had already showered after swimming that afternoon and was already wearing pajamas. The fracture in the nightly routine had left a void, one he had decided to fill by pretending he was the mythological son of Zeus. As Mattie and I had been looking through the telescope, I had heard him running up and down the corridor, shouting the name of the demigod amidst roars and shrieks.

As I stepped into his bedroom, I spotted Ace on the floor, his tongue lolling out of his jaw as he panted frantically, ears back and eyes wide with excitement. He had apparently followed Nathan's every step and was exhausted from the effort.

"What is going on in here?" I asked, forcing my voice to be stern.

Nathan, wearing only his underwear and a towel around his neck, was trying to lift his bed, grunting with effort. I glanced to Selina as she stood by, arms crossed over her chest with her shoulders quivering as she fought laughter.

"Dad, I'm really strong, watch!"

I took to standing beside my wife, watching on as Nathan legitimately made an effort to lift his queen sized bed. She leaned into my arm before saying, "Well, he was off the wall pretending to be Hercules, tried to make his own toga out of his towel from earlier, kept tripping… so I gave him something else to play."

Noticing for the first time that it was a red towel hanging from my son's shoulders, I glared down at Selina, "How could you?"

"Hey, he stopped trying to climb Mount Olympus, also known as the shower door, and he started rescuing people trapped under heavy things… like Ace and his laundry basket. I have no regrets, Bruce." She kissed my cheek, despite the cold look on my face and then approached Nathan, "All right, Superman, looks like you've saved the day again."

Letting go of the bed frame, Nathan spun around twice, the towel-cape floating off of his back, "Did you see, Dad, I almost lifted it."

Sighing in disgust, I replied, "I saw… you're very strong."

He flexed both of his arms, his bare torso revealing little, tan muscles.

Selina started to straighten out the chaotic covers on the bed, "Now, you have to rest up for another day of being a superhero."

He walked over to her, tugging at the towel knotted at his throat until it came loose, "Where should I hang this up?"

She took it, made a slightly disgusted face before suggesting, "Maybe we can wash this cape… little dingy from all your hard work. Why don't you get your tee shirt back on, kiddo."

"Okay," he nodded, glancing around the room before asking, "Where is it?"

Selina looked around as well, but I cleared my throat upon finding it hanging from the on overhead light fixture. Before he could make the attempt to fly up and get it, I moved to stand under the light and reached up with my cane to unhook it.

When I handed it back to Nathan, he smiled up at me, "Thanks Dad, you're my hero."

"I try," I offered before nodding towards his bed, "All right, tiger, let's get to it."

He walked towards his mother while pulling his shirt on, "What are we doing tomorrow?"

"I'm not sure, Nate. What do you want to do?" Selina asked as he climbed onto the bed.

As she covered him up, he shrugged, "Can we give Ace a bath?"

We all looked to the dog as he laid on the floor, his panting had subsided the second he felt our combined attention.

"Sure, that sounds like a great idea," Selina said before kissing his head, "After breakfast though."

"Okay." He settled back against the pillows before saying, "Good night, Mom."

"Good night, honey," Selina kissed him again before rising to her feet, touching my arm before continuing out of the room.

"Want to read tonight?" I asked as I carefully sat on the bed beside him.

Shrugging, Nathan answered, "I don't know… I guess not."

"That's fine."

He paused, then looked directly at me, "Where'd you and Mattie go, after dinner?"

"For a little walk, that's all."

"Can I come, next time?"

I nodded, leaning in to rest my brow against his, "Of course you can. Tomorrow night, just us."

He grinned at that, "Cool."

"Night, tiger."

"Night, Dad."

Shutting his lights off, I left the door ajar before heading towards his sister's room. As expected it was already shut but I was surprised when she bid me to enter after a short knock. Opening it just enough to peer inside, I found her on the floor with her laptop.

"Not too late, okay."

She rolled her eyes, "Dad, it's like nine-thirty."

"Not too late," I repeated. That time, she understood my subtle hint. If she intended on sneaking into our room again, not too late…

Leaving her, I continued on down the hall towards the master bedroom, treasuring the prospect of sleep. As much as I hated to admit it, Selina was right, Leslie and Alfred were right and Dr. Kohl was right. I was doing too much, stretching myself too thin already. Rather than accept defeat and lead a sub-normal and sub-efficient life, I was carrying onward. The fact that a mere half day at the office and a few hours of barely strenuous exercise spent all of my energy was pathetic.

Selina kept reminding me that it was my own damn fault, that next time I came out of retirement and was thrown off of a building, I shouldn't land on my head. A joke, meant to lighten serious matters.

Given how my left leg barely flexed and every step felt as if the Joker was breaking my knee again, there would be no next time.

Mattie had brought up a valid point earlier that evening. It had been nearly three months and it still felt like it had just happened. I could still feel the Joker's bones breaking in my hands, I could hear his laughter echoing in even the most quiet of moments and I relived every second of my free fall every time I closed my eyes.

My own damn fault...

As directed, I had brought home copies of everything Dr. Kohl had presented with me earlier that afternoon. Leslie had waited until after dinner to scrutinize the reports and write-ups, leaving most of the evening peaceful. I would surely get a verbal berating in the morning from her, before the rest of the household was awake. Tough love, she had always called it, tough love necessary to get through a thick skull. A thick skull with a new dent in the-.

"Bruce?" I heard Selina's voice through a fog, "Are you okay?"

It took far too long to realize I was leaning against the wall instead of walking down the hall. I was catching my breath but had no reason to, leading me to realize that I had endured another absent seizure. It took much longer for me to respond to her, leaving me standing there and blinking randomly as she jogged to my side, wrapping an arm around my lower back to help me stand upright.

I was angry at myself, despite having no physiological control over the matter, but hid it from my voice, "I'm fine, just lost my balance." To prove it, I leaned over and kissed her cheek.

Selina glared up at me, then sighed, choosing to accept the lie as opposed to challenging it, hooking her arm with my right one, "I'm down to tucking in the biggest baby of all, don't make it any harder than it has to be."

"Yes, ma'am," I forced a smirk to my lips.

Since it would take nearly two weeks to completely flush out the Tegretol from my system, it was going to be the longest ten days I would have to endure. There were no medically proven withdrawal symptoms from the drug and even if there were, I hadn't been taking it that long to begin with. What I was concerned the most about was the unchecked seizures. Dr. Kohl said he would be willing to put me on Phenobarbital after ten days of being off my current anti-convulsant regimen.

Ten days was a long time when you had brain damage effusion induced tonic-clonic seizures...

The plan of attack, aside from going cold turkey, was abundant rest and relaxation. I would be taking a leave of absence from Wayne Enterprises starting Monday, poor timing but my neurologist had said the sooner we started the new treatment the better. In addition, mild sedatives had already been prescribed in the event that my body was unable to maintain a relaxed state as it cleansed itself. Usually, I would have held off until it adapted better to my schedule, but having been given another lease on life, it was selfish for me to continue old habits.

That and it would have been hazardous to my health with not only Alfred but with Selina, Leslie and Mattie looming over me.

After leading me into the bedroom, Selina walked with me to the bed, letting go as I turned and took a seat on the mattress. She asked if I wanted her to get Alfred and I shook my head, "No, he's done more than enough today."

"So have you," she countered.

I waited until she had taken a seat beside me to reply, "Apparently."

Looking to her face, I could tell she wanted to ask how many episodes I had endured during the day but she kept the inquiry to herself. Our relationship had endured every imaginable obstacle over the years and had managed to persevere. Our current task to return to normalcy after what had happened in April was, to date, the most difficult. Unlike previous injuries I had endured, even including when Pasqualle had shot me, this one had resulted in ramifications beyond my wildest anticipations.

No, that was a lie. I had prepared myself for death facing the Joker that night in Crime Alley...

Before my thoughts could get any darker, Selina kissed my cheek before rising, "Well, I'm beat. Shower in the morning?"

"Co-ed?" I asked as she made her way towards the walk-in closet.

"Maybe," she smirked before disappearing into the small room.

It was a sensitive subject, one I had been keen on denying for far too long. Even switching from the high dose of Tegretol to the Phenobarbital would only prove to further detriment my libido. Known side effects combined with my general sensitivity to vigorous behavior had all but put our love life on hold, something we had always turned to in times of need and desperation. Whether we were arguing, stressed, scared or simply at a loss of what to do next, we had always been able to lose ourselves in each other, if only for a few minutes.

I hadn't made love to my wife in five weeks, or rather I hadn't been capable of making love to her in five weeks. Although she was still content with me satisfying her by other means, I wasn't. She tried to placate me, saying it was all right and that she understood what was going on, but it had no effect. Earlier, before dinner when we had been talking in our room, she had joked that we would have to get our fill in during my ten days of cleansing.

Earlier, when Mattie had been eavesdropping in the hallway…

"Here," Selina emerged from the closet, holding a pair of black flannel pants, "You can finally change out of all that Gucci."

"Thanks," I said softly as she paused to stand in front of me. A loose purple tee shirt and gray sweat pants that had been cut off at her calves, reducing temptation with the touch and feel of cotton.

I changed in the bathroom, downing my evening handful of pills with a cold glass of water. Intentionally, I had dropped the dose of the Tylenol PM so that I would be able to wake readily if Mattie came knocking. It was bad enough that her childhood had been cut short by learning the truth, it was worse that she would spend the few years she had left in it worrying about me.

On the way back from the rose garden, she had held my left hand, letting her fingertips dance over my wedding band. Before reaching the house, I had asked her if she was going down to the Cave and she had looked up and smiled, "No, I was thinking about looking up at the stars tonight, not bats."

I had expected Selina to drill me on our private conversation but she had acted as if it had never happened. She had contained her surprise when Mattie joined her Family upstairs as opposed to seeking out her mentors down below. It had bothered me to the point that I had taken the first step, asking her about her passiveness. She had shaken her head, "She's right here, spending time with you. You obviously said the right thing."

I had replied, "There's no right thing to say… not about that."

As I returned to bed, I smiled to see Selina had the covers pulled down and was teasing Kitten by tickling his back just in front of his tail. After I reclined beside her, he decided to take his aggravation out on me, racing across my chest with his claws out.

Although she was laughing beside me, I thought back to earlier, when her face had been solemn as she had disagreed with me, "Yes, there is. And you're the only one who knows it."

^V^


	2. Come What May: II

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Not all of the Family knows what happened after the wedding in July. Until now.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Pauly D shout out. I love him.

^V^

For the one millionth time, I told Dick his cuff links were in the top right drawer of our dresser.

For the one millionth and first time, I listened to the pleading words of Talia al Ghul...

Being the master of all things that telecommunicated, I had spent my summer diligently chipping away at the transmission I had come across at the beginning of July. When I had originally found it, I thought it had been some shielded government message that would be fun to play with and translate. I often spent rare, quiet moments at night practicing breaking into federally protected networks and hacking into high-end, classified e-mails. They were puzzles, meant to be examined, assembled and completed.

With Superman and the Martian Manhunter zooming around the city the night after the wedding reception, crime had been at a one night, all time low. Dick and Ethan had already gone to bed, leaving me alone with my keyboards and the transmission. It had been easy to figure out that the initial cover language was Kurdish, the words nothing but incoherent ramblings. Finding the digital audio map beneath had taken a whopping hour and half, and it had only taken so long because I had interspersed it with a concurrently running game of Dr. Mario.

It had been all fun and games until I had finally cracked it and heard Talia's voice…

Dick suddenly called out to me again from the bathroom but I couldn't understand a word he was saying. Rather than hiding away in my lair of electronics, I had opted to go mobile, bringing a charged laptop with me into the living room. With it being just after seven, Tim and Cass weren't due to hit the streets for at least another hour, spending their after-dinner time beating the crap out of Mattie Elizabeth Wayne.

Occasionally, it was the other way around.

Rather than continue shouting back to one another, I waited for Dick to make the right move and actually make his way down the hall. I was curled up on the couch with Ethan as he chewed on a plush coral fish that he called Memo, his version of Nemo. He was a year and a half old, n's were still his nemesis. While he soothed his teething woes, I had been tooling around on the laptop, sending some older files to the backup crays and checking out possible Christmas gifts on eBay. I ordered an Uno Attack card shooter for Nathan as Dick finally appeared in the open archway. He leaned over the back of the couch and said, "Cool…"

"Not for you."

"Oh man…" he sighed practically in my ear. When I asked him if he found his cuff links, he replied, "I found cuff link. If I can't find the other one, I'll just go to that place on Emmerson Ave tomorrow during lunch."

Where I had made sure that my attire was ready for the following night's event at the beginning of the week, Dick had naturally waited until the last second. I looked over my shoulder, "You have another pair. I think you have three other pairs."

"And they are MIA as well. Actually, the one I found is probably the one I had lost last year… I think I put the rest of them up for safekeeping somewhere."

"Forget physical therapy, Dick, you need to start hanging out with Bruce when he's working on short term memory."

"Har dee har har," Dick said as he stood upright. After walking around the end table, he sat on the other side of Ethan, "Mommy is on her game tonight, Egg-man."

Ethan offered his father a chance to also chew on Memo but Dick declined as the little coral fish that could needed a desperate dip in the washing machine. Turned down, my son resumed chomping on the poor thing's face.

It was only when I heard the clink of glass on the stone coasters of the end table that I realized Dick had brought two glasses of red wine with him. When he realized my attention was on him, he offered me one and after a faint whiff of its contents, I smiled. As he retrieved his own glass with his right hand, I asked, "The Louis Jadot?"

"Grands Echezeaux. Figured after today, we should celebrate," he added with a smirk. "Cheers."

Our glasses chimed as we toasted above Ethan's head, "Cheers."

There was a need to celebrate. After a two hour evaluation at the orthopedic clinic, including an MRI, complete neurological, reflexive and pain receptor exam of his left arm, Dick was cleared to start more active work in rehabilitation. He had broken the news arriving home that afternoon by taking his injured arm out of its sling and opening the front door, smiling and proudly boasting, "Tah-dah!"

In the coming weeks, he would be able to start mild strength training and limbering exercises before building up his atrophied muscles. Over dinner, he had gone to great length explaining his planned recovery, both with his physical therapist and at home. It had been wonderful seeing the light in his eyes as he talked about the stepping stones back to his former life.

"Dr. Yeoum said he had never seen such a quick recovery, said because I was so fit to start out that it saved some serious lag time."

"Is that right?" I had inquired while dicing up the rest of my pork chop for Ethan.

"Yeah, so really, my good looks saved my ass... or my arm, rather." When I had brought up the fact that he still had to take things nice and slow, he had readily complied, "I know, Babs… I just… I just can't wait to get back out there, you know?"

Knowing he had been battling self-hatred for what had happened to him and Will since the end of April, I had smiled, "Back out there and out of my hair."

After dinner, he had taken Ethan duty, tiring him out along with Frank by playing in the den. I had opted for the kitchen, cleaning up quickly before reaching for the phone. The first call I had made was to Wayne Manor, smiling when Nathan answered the phone before being yelled at by his sister.

"Sorry," Mattie had said when she wrestled it away from him, "He is crazy tonight." As if to punctuate her assessment, I had heard him howling in the background, Ace joining him. She had asked me to hold on before covering the receiver, "Nate, I'm going to tell Dad if you don't stop it."

The howling had turned to growls and then six year old laughter.

When all was quiet, she had finally said, "Want a big brother for Ethan?"

"No thank you, I prefer him to remain an uncle for Ethan," I had snickered, "Is your Dad around?"

Mattie had hesitated briefly before saying, "He's sleeping."

I had instantly looked to the kitchen clock, seeing it was just after six-thirty in the evening. Instinct had me asking, "Is he okay?"

Another pause had followed before a forced lie, "Yeah… he's fine."

Bruce was nearly done with his second week off of anti-convulsant medication before starting on Phenobarbital. Although we all wanted to stay in the loop about his recovery, Bruce had tried his best to keep things under wraps. I hadn't known about the next step in trying to control his seizures until a week after he had stopped the Tegretol. Ethan and I had gone to the Manor for a surprise visit and arrived just after Bruce had suffered a grand mal seizure in the study. Alfred and Selina had been tending to him, leaving a teary eyed Nathan standing in the doorway. After I had corralled him away and tried to get him back to his usual silly self, Selina had found us, looking as if she needed to be cheered up as well.

After assigning her son to get his sneakers from upstairs so they could take Ace to the park, she had come clean about everything. How Bruce had not been handling the cold turkey approach as well as he had hoped and had agreed to stay home from work until he was balanced on new meds. How he had been to Bristol Medical Center twice in the last three days, against his will given that he hadn't regained consciousness after particularly bad episodes.

Fighting back tears herself, Selina had sighed, "Guess this is where 'for better or worse' comes into play."

"It's going to get better, Selina."

"It certainly can't get any worse," she had wiped her eyes carefully, "It's just… seeing him… like that… it's terrifying."

It had sent his willful mother's emotions spinning, no wonder it had been so upsetting for her son.

Before leaving, Selina and I had taken Ethan upstairs where she and Alfred had long since put Bruce to bed. He had still been groggy but put on a good front for his grandson. Ethan rambled on in his own language, bringing a smile to Bruce's face. I had urged my son on, asking him who his new friends were, pointing out the windows as dusk fell outside.

After gasping, Ethan had waved before declaring loudly, "Hi moon! Hi stars! See you!"

Selina had laughed as he had proceeded to repeat himself but Bruce had only allowed a brief smile.

I had wondered if he had another bad night but Mattie's voice quickly directed me away from asking, "Mom's upstairs, I can get her if you want."

"Actually, I was just relaying good news." I had gone on to explain Dick had been given the okay to start the next step in his rehabilitation.

"Really? That's so cool! When did he find out?"

"This afternoon… he'll start next week with his therapist but I bet he'll get a head start this weekend on his own."

She had replied, "That's awesome… Now I'll have someone new to spar with."

From there, I had tried to call Tim and Cass but no one picked up. I left a message with them, as well as with Will. I planned on calling Jim in the morning anyway, so I had figured I could hold out and tell him then. Retrieving the laptop of all laptops from my secure room, I had joined my family in the den only to find that Dick wanted to trade supervision duty.

He had claimed he wanted to make sure he had everything set for Saturday's banquet, but I had a feeling he wanted to get a baseline of his limitations in the training room.

After another sip of the wine, I handed the glass back to Dick, "Whew, good stuff."

"Thank Alfred. He was cleaning out the wine cellar and gave us some of said good stuff," he paused while setting my glass beside his, "So, I take it you are starting your August Christmas shopping."

"I'm working, too," I defended myself, pulling up the audio copy of the transmission.

The smile slipped from his face briefly before he commented, "Ah, that."

"Yes, that."

"Well, if you want to decode Talia's Greatest Hits, I can get this guy settled in for the night."

"One more listen, then I'll be in to help."

He leaned in and kissed me before latching onto Ethan and Memo, "Oh yeah, it's bath time, yeah!"

Alone, I sighed heavily before hitting play.

"_I have only moments… but I needed to contact you, to try to warn you… These last fifteen years… my father hasn't been in hiding… he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family."_

Hitting pause, I brought up the lengthy report I had been building in not only as to where it had originated from but also as to what it meant. Tim, Dick and I were in agreement that ninety percent of it could automatically be considered a complete lie. Any time she came pleading for help, it was a given that her dear old dad was the puppet master. With nearly fifteen years of silence from the Demon's Head and his acolytes, we had all presumed that the old man had finally found eternal rest having exhausted his collection of Lazarus pits. As if his inactivity hadn't been enough of a clue, the fact that thermo imaging and satellite scans had not been able to detect any active and functional pits made it all the more likely.

It was impossible to keep track of all of his bases and lairs and research centers given his vast fortune and boundless scheme-hatchery, but Bruce had spent the better part of his crime fighting career trying to. Anytime he had encountered Ra's and had either been brought back or kidnapped to a base, Bruce had always managed to escape with IT data that we could use to further our efforts. Having not had so much as a world dominating pip out of him, and it was hard to believe he was simply biding his time.

Pressing play again, Talia continued, sounding more frantic, "_Beloved… I can't even begin to explain the things he has done to me… holding me captive… his new ally is a vile man… I need your help, I need you… My father has spent these last years training him… he wants me to wed him but I can't… he's… I couldn't do it to you, beloved, I couldn't… marry an __abomination… I could barely look at him without thinking of you, and what you endured for him… before and after he died… Beloved, please, I-_-."

It cut off just as her voice hitched. Thinking of her recording it in hiding with tears real or fake flowing down her perfect face, sent a chill down my spine. If she wasn't lying, and Ra's had some diabolical plan in the works, then we would have to be ready for anything. If it was a lie and part of said plan, why would Ra's announce himself as opposed to using the element of surprise? There were too many variables, too many unknowns.

Including the unnamed man she spoke of, someone from Bruce's past, someone who was supposed to be dead.

Bruce had taken the transmission seriously, studying it as much as he could given everything that was going on in his life. He and I had many discussions that if the new ally was real, who it could have been. Given Ra's' intimate knowledge of his former enemy, he would have no problem learning about individuals that had stood up against Bruce in the past. The rogue's gallery, save for the Joker, were alive and well, safely tucked away to live out their years in Arkham and Blackgate. Deadshot was in prison in Europe after his botched assassin attempt in Paris, leaving him handless and in custody.

After going through former foes, Bruce had pointed out that it would have to be someone Ra's felt worthy of his time and attention, someone worthy of his daughter and siring an heir to the empire he had built.

"I thought you were the only one that fit that bill," I had suggested one night.

Bruce had sighed, our discussion taking place over the phone rather than the Oracom, "There was another once… Ra's chose him because he had defeated me… but later decided he lacked the finer qualities he wanted… and we don't have his whereabouts. No one does."

I didn't have to ask.

Bruce would admit to having been beat by a number of foes, but he had only been defeated by one.

A Santa Priscan born criminal turned mercenary known only by the name of Bane.

^V^

I looked up at Mattie, bound and hanging upside down ten feet above the training bay's padded floor.

Her face was slightly reddened but the smirk on her lips belied her current predicament. In her previous eight escapes, she had been secured with a varying degree of restraints from simply having ropes around her wrists and ankles to having handcuffs and chains holding her captive. To keep things interesting, I had taken to randomly grabbing her and spinning her, swaying her and even delivering mild blows as she fought for freedom. Every time, she made fast escapes, landing ready to defend herself from her "attacker".

Tim, who had been alternating between observing her and weight lifting, had joked that I should dig out a straight jacket next.

Currently, she was wrapped in cable, loops pinning her arms to her sides while a figure-eight had her ankles tied to one another. It was certainly more difficult from her previous restraints but I was sure it wouldn't pose too big of a hurdle for her. Escape artistry relied heavily on limberness, persistence and focus, each of which she had tenfold.

"Ready?" I asked.

Blindfolded, she looked towards me and grinned, "I doubt a kidnapper would ask me if I was ready to try and escape."

Tim called out from the bench press in a high pitched leer, "You'll never escape, Huntress! Never!"

"That's more like it," Mattie growled before going to work.

I watched on as she began alternating pushing her shoulders up and down before adding motion in her back and hips to create the wiggle room she needed. Within in ten seconds, she had her right arm free and quickly pushed the loops of cable up towards her feet. From there, she undid the knotted cable around her ankles, the stiff material making for strong bonds had she simply strained against them instead of patiently untying them. Gripping the chain that had been suspending her, Mattie slipped her feet out and then gracefully leapt to the ground.

"Ninth time's a charm," she beamed up at me, her eyes still covered.

"Not bad," I nodded.

Tim had made it to his feet as well, approaching as he said, "Not bad at all. Let's do it again. This time, we'll use the rappelling rope. You would think it would have more give but if it's tied tight enough, it's a nightmare to get out of."

Removing her blindfold, Mattie looked to him, "Nine times wasn't enough?"

"Practice makes perfect," I spoke up.

"Yeah, and I've gotten out perfectly every time."

As she had been excelling at her crime fighting lessons, Tim and I had noticed a slight change in her. She was certainly enthusiastic about learning as much as she could, but with each thing she perfected, she seemed to grow bolder. At first, it had been little smart quips, ones that seemed to fit in with the persona of the newest young protégé in the Family. Recently, she had started to question the purpose of certain exercises, something that none of us would have dared to do to Bruce when he had trained us.

The previous night, after Mattie had commented that it seemed pointless to practice walking on hot coals, broken glass and other hazardous surfaces seeing how everyone was always outfitted in thick soled boots. Tim had explained that you had no way of predicting what you would have access to in the field or what you would face. I had added that it was important to learn to control pain and the only way to learn how was to experience it.

Later on during patrols, Tim had asked me if I felt we had been going to easy on her, "I mean, the lessons are strenuous and she is picking everything up… but… I just don't think she's really getting the idea behind it. How dangerous it all is."

I had offered, "She knows the risks. She's seen it first hand. But she's young, thinks she's invincible."

He had taken a moment to respond, "Bruce told her about Jason, how he died."

"I know, but he also told her what Jason was like. How different she is from him when he started out."

He had commented, "Her going into the city, making her damned costume, escaping the Watchtower… staring down the Joker in Crime Alley… she's done more in the last six months than I did in my first year as Robin, practically all on her own."

"Not really. We all helped in some way."

Finally, he had replied, "We're creating a monster, aren't we?"

"A monster for good. Not evil."

Seeing how she was having friends over that evening, I had decided to skip out on our usual afternoon of sparring, gymnastics and weapon training for more escapology lessons. Tim and I had arrived at the Cave just after three in the afternoon and she was already at it on the parallel bars. Dick had given her nearly all of his knowledge in gymnastics, starting when she was a little girl. It showed as her movements were fluid, efficient and effortless.

After two hours of escaping bonds, of which were just the beginning of a series she needed to master, she was bored. Bored enough to be mouthy.

Rather than take the explanative approach again, I was surprised when Tim stepped forward, the smirk fading from his face, "You train with us, Mattie, you do what we say, when we say it. I want you to do it again, you do it. I want you to do it a hundred times after that, you do it."

She tried to play his tone off as a joke by saluting him and responding, "Yes, sir, Batman."

He stepped closer to her and growled, "This isn't a game, Mattie. These exercises are mock ups. They are meant to simulate when you are in actual danger, when you might be bait for me to come rescue or you may be the target yourself. This is so you can learn how to escape serious situations, so you don't end up having your costume in a glass display case, is that understood?"

Mattie didn't have anything to say to that.

Tim's voice softened as he set a hand on her narrow shoulder, "You can't doubt me. Or Cassandra or Dick. We all trust each other with our lives, without question. Out there… if we tell you something, you have to do it, without hesitating."

Her gaze found his face, "I understand."

"Good. Now, there is a black bag of static rope in the cabinets of the costume vault, underneath the rack of grapple guns. Get the one marked seventy-five feet."

Mattie nodded before jogging away.

Alone, Tim asked, "Too mean?"

"Just mean enough," I smiled at him, kissing his cheek before smacking the other, "Tough love, works every time."

He was about to counterstrike but hesitated, his eyes catching something on the main floor of the Cave. I looked up as well to see Bruce stepping out of the elevator, Ace trailing behind him less than a foot. We decided to head up as well and as we climbed the metal stairs, Bruce paused and waited for us to join him.

"Where's Mattie?"

Tim nodded to the costume vault, "Going to get more rope. We've been making her a piñata all afternoon. She's pretty good, even if she isn't filled with candy."

Just then, Mattie emerged from the vault, the black bag over her shoulder. Seeing our guest, she called out, "Hi, Dad!" When she approached us, she roughed up Ace's scruff before adjusting the heavy bag on her shoulder.

Bruce cleared his throat before saying, "Just wanted to come down and make sure you're keeping an eye on the time. Your friends will be here in an hour and a half… and you need to shower and change and-."

"I know, Dad. Just one more escape… then the evidence quiz, right Tim?" she said, looking to each of them.

Tim glanced to Bruce, "Well, we can do that tomorrow. Slides, fingerprints and blood spatter patterns can wait a day."

From the look on our former mentor's face, he had come down to the Cave for more than just checking on his daughter. Knowing it was best for Tim to stay behind and discuss matters with him, I opted to take Mattie back down to the training bay for one last round. Rather than hold her upside down that time, I opted to leave her on the ground, the heavy rope securing her arms to her sides, wrists and ankles tied and her feet drawn up and secured behind her back.

Just mean enough.

As she tried to disassemble the binds, I kept my attention diverted between her efforts and Bruce and Tim up on the main floor. They had made their way to the computer bay, their voices soft and barely carrying down to me. What little I had heard indicated that they were talking about the transmission received earlier in the summer, the one that was presumably from Talia al Ghul.

Regrettably, I had practically no experience with one of the most feared and revered megalomaniacs on the face of the Earth before he disappeared. I had read through reports Bruce had done over a decade earlier that there was no way of knowing whether or not Ra's had actually died or if he was simply waiting for the perfect moment to strike. He had lived centuries, certainly fifteen years off the radar was nothing to him.

While Mattie had spent nearly two years reading up on the real history of her Family, I had been doing the same for the last two months. Ra's was not only a powerful figure in his own right, but he also commanded the forces of the League of Assassins. Dick had been kidnapped two decades earlier by Ra's in an attempt to test the worthiness of Batman as a suitor for his daughter. When Bruce had declined, it had set the motion for nearly a lifetime of fighting, ranging from personally attacking one another to attempts at destroying Gotham and the world.

Through it all, Ra's' daughter, Talia, had remained torn between her loyalty to her father and her love for Bruce. She had foiled more of her father's plans to save her "beloved" than thought possible, but oddly enough she also turned on Bruce without warning. There was no denying that her message, coming after fifteen years of silence, was unsettling, especially to Bruce.

Tim had told me about it the morning after our wedding reception, saying Barbara had come upon it earlier but had just been able to decipher it. He had recounted his first experience with Ra's al Ghul when he had still been training to be Robin. Ra's had sent his minions to take Bruce captive and to Tim's surprise, Bruce had gone along fairly willingly. Out of contact for a few brief weeks, Bruce had returned as abruptly as he had left, seemingly no worse for the wear. The file on the crays about the incident was thorough, covering the facts on his brief stint in the compound in Antarctica, his discussions with Ra's as well as his escape and the destruction of the facility. There had been another file about an encounter with Ra's, dated shortly before Tim had started training, but it had been blocked.

When I had brought it up to Tim a few weeks earlier, he had commented, "It's almost like Bruce and the Joker. It's always been dual between them. But at least with Ra's, it is more that he wants Bruce to join the dark side where with the Joker, he wanted to chop Bruce's head off with a rusty spoon."

Once again, he had inherited an enemy who wanted to fight Bruce and not him.

I had only needed to listen to the transmission a handful of times, where Barbara, Bruce and Tim had been listening to it practically nonstop. The woman, who had been verified as Talia through digital dissection, seemed sincerely fearful. Her shallow breathing and fluctuating tone broadcasted as much desperation as the meaning of the words themselves.

Then again, I had always been better looking at someone to determine their emotions as opposed to listening to them…

"Earth to Cassandra…"

I looked away from the computer bay to see Mattie had not only freed herself, but was nearly done wrapping the rope back up.

Before I could say anything, she posed her question again, "What are they doing up there? New case?"

Shaking my head to clear my thoughts more than to answer her, I replied, "No… just the usual stuff."

Mattie studied her father and Tim, caught up in a gravelly discussion, along with Barbara who's image was crystal clear on the main display monitor. "Dad doesn't make that face for anything that's usual."

Before I could stop her, she had bagged the rope and trotted up the stairs, practically in silence. I caught up with her just as she took a step onto the main platform but I had been two seconds too late. Not only had she heard the beginning of the transmission in perfect clarity, she was able to see the images Barbara had brought up of Ra's Al Ghul, Talia and Bane.

Thankfully, I wasn't the only one that was lagging as Tim had been unable to pause the transmission until Talia had already cried, "…_he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family_."

Tim tried to play it cool, quickly minimizing windows and closing the connection to Barbara as Bruce stepped towards us, leaving his cane against the workstation counter.

"Why don't you put the rope back, then we can call it a day," I offered, trying to usher her towards the vault with a hand on her shoulder.

She was quick to shrug it off, looking up at me briefly before glaring at Bruce and Tim, "What's going on?"

"Nothing that concerns you," Bruce replied, his gaze unwavering and cold.

"Who was that talking?" she pushed on."

Again, Bruce shut her down, "Mattie, it's nothing you need to-."

"The hell it is, she was saying something about someone coming after us, after our Family!"

The Cave was very quiet after Mattie's outcry.

I looked to Tim to see he wore a look of fear on his face that matched my own. It was one thing for her to be sassy with us when we pushed her too hard in her training, it was another thing entirely for her to do so, in addition to swearing, at her father. Regrettably, Mattie did not see the same danger in her actions and simply stared at Bruce with her brow furrowed in anger.

Instead of launching into full Bat-mode, I was surprised to see Bruce speak evenly and calmly, "Go to your room. And be sure to call all of your friends and tell them they are not coming over tonight."

She threw the bag down on the ground forcibly, making it thud loud enough to draw Ace to full attention, "What? That's not fair! You can't-!"

Finally, the growl came from Bruce's lips, one Tim had used earlier but much louder, "Now!"

After she stormed off, I picked the bag up and started to apologize, "I tried to keep her down in the training bay."

Bruce shook his head, "It's not your fault, Cassandra." Without another word, Bruce retrieved his cane, called Ace to heel and then walked back towards the elevator.

When Bruce was out of sight, Tim ran a hand through his hair, finally exhaling, "She should be okay. We just spent all afternoon teaching her how to get out of sticky situations."

^V^

As I raced up the stairs to my bedroom, I promised myself I wouldn't cry.

At the second floor landing when I flew by Alfred, I was doing okay.

By the time I made it to my room, my eyes were hot and my vision was blurry but my cheeks were still dry.

It was after I slammed my door shut and went to lock it that I lost it.

After Dad had knocked my door down back in July, he had it replaced with a new one with a knob that wouldn't lock. I hadn't fought with him at all over the summer, never having to try and lock him out. After having him yell at me for the first time in months, I had no desire in seeing him for the rest of the night. Or weekend. Or ever.

Tears falling in streams over my cheekbones, I heard a soft knock on the door followed by, "Miss Mattie, are you all right?"

Giving up the fight against my sobs, I ignored him and ran to my bed, collapsing face first into the mountain of pillows. Taffy, always willing to cheer me up, rose from her nap at the foot of my bed and strode over to sit by my face. I didn't even want to see her and pushed her away roughly.

It had gone from the perfect day to the worst in a matter of seconds, once again torn to pieces by my father. After enjoying the morning with Mom at the Preserve, I had spent most of the afternoon in the Cave working on the gymnastic equipment before training with Cass and Tim. Even when Tim had yelled at me, I knew I had deserved it, mouthing back instead of doing as ordered. I had known him my entire life and had never seen him angry. I had to find out what his boiling point was, preferably before I became his crime fighting partner.

Although it seemed to surprise him and Cass, I thought it was only natural how quickly I was moving through their lessons. I wanted it more than anything else in the world, why would I waste time goofing off or not giving it my all? Even working with Dad and sometimes Mom had been a breeze, learning the in's and out's of detective work along with breaking and entering undetected. I wanted to make them proud, but more than anything, I wanted to be a real part of the Family.

I wanted to be the Huntress.

And my perfect day had come to a screeching halt upon seeing Dad and Tim obviously debating about something serious. When I had run up to see what was going on, I had instantly recognized the images on the screen belonging to Ra's al Ghul and his daughter Talia, along with the mercenary Bane. Seeing the stern looks on their faces and the images of people who had tried to kill members of my Family. The crays had tons of case files and dossiers on them and their criminal antics over the last thirty years. I had found it interesting that Ra's was practically immortal, able to revive his aged figure as needed using the Lazarus Pit.

Many of the foes that had stood up against my Family had been regular sociopaths and criminals, but Ra's was practically out of comic books. From what I could remember off the top of my head, he had long since desired my father to marry Talia in order to produce the perfect heir to the al Ghul empire. Naturally, Dad had refused, thus making him foe instead of friend.

For years, he and the Justice League had quarreled with Ra's, more often than not ending with the immortal man's "death" and the destruction of whatever world dominating plan he had in action. The last major encounter had been when Ra's had tried to put the world into chaos, disabling the entire Justice League by putting protocols designed by my father into use. The files had been stolen by Talia, who in the end had betrayed her own father in order to help mine.

Order had been restored, Ra's had been lost and the Justice League had expelled Dad for the precautionary measures that had put them all at risk.

Seeing their faces on the screen, hearing the fear in the woman's voice on the speakers and feeling the intensity between my father and Tim… I wasn't a detective yet, but it didn't take much to realize what was going on. If that hadn't been enough to ruin my day, I was yelled at when I wanted to know that my Family wasn't in danger of being attacked again.

The knock sounded on the door again, although it wasn't Alfred's courteous rap-rap. It was the side of my father's fist banging, "Mattie?"

Rolling onto my side, I took a deep breath to push back my sobs long enough to scream, "Go away!"

"Mattie, I need to talk to you."

I was going to scream back at him, but I couldn't draw enough air. In fact, I felt my sobs turning to gasps as my lungs grew tighter and my pants turned to wheezing breaths. In all of my activity through the afternoon, I had forgotten to take my bronchodilators. I never forgot, even as a young child, I always took my inhaler on schedule and took my Theophylline capsules without balking. And the constriction on my chest and the sudden inability to breath were exactly why.

Rather than use what little air power I had to call out to my father, especially since he would let himself in anyway, I rolled off of my bed and knelt before my night table. Frantically looking through the bottom drawer, I did my best to take deep breaths but found it nearly impossible. As my fingertips found my Albuterol, I desperately brought it to my lips and pumped it into my mouth, inhaling as deeply as possible. It wasn't until then that I realized Dad was right behind me, kneeling on his good leg while pulling me back to lean upright against his chest.

As my lungs began to fight back, I heard him whispering in my ear, "Breath in, breath out, Mattie, breath in, breath out…"

I had endured enough asthma attacks to handle them on my own, even those as severe as the one that had me in its grips. From the very beginning, Dad had been there for nearly every single one, doing what he could to help me focus on pushing through it. I recalled the first time I had handled one on my own, it had been during a soccer practice when I was eight. I had told him about it at dinner that night as if I had simply tripped and skinned my knee. Concern had washed over his face, but I had assured him I was fine, even going as far to say that I wasn't his little girl anymore.

But even as angry as I was with him, I was still relieved that he was there, rubbing my back, offering soothing instructions. There was something about the gesture that made me feel safe, made me feel like I was a little kid again. Not that I was going to let him know that…

After two minutes, I moved away from him, making it to my feet as steadily as I could. He rose as well, although he had to grab onto the edge of my bed in order to keep from pushing off of his stiff, left leg. I should have helped him up, but as my head began to clear, it immediately grew cloudy with anger.

"You should sit down," he gestured to my bed.

I did as told, waiting for him to do the same. Crossing my arms over my chest, I remained silent. The small mirror on my dresser across the room showed that my face was bright red and my hair was half out of its ponytail. It would be difficult putting up an argument looking the way I did, let alone with my body suddenly drained of energy.

"Are you all right?" he asked as he reached over to take my pulse.

I brushed his hand away instinctively, "I'm fine."

He paused briefly before admitting, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you that upset."

"You ruined my night, did you honestly think I wasn't going be upset?" I snapped back, instantly regretting it given the look it brought to his face. In the Cave, he had been angered by my defiance, but in my room he looked remorseful.

"Mattie, I'm sorry… I…" he waited until I looked up at him before finishing, "I shouldn't have yelled at you... I was wrong. But… you were wrong as well, for acting as you did."

"Acting as I did?" I shook my head, "All I did was ask a question, a question that you never answered."

"Kitten, I-."

"What is going on?" I cut him off, my deoxygenated brain seemingly acting on its own accord.

Rather than ignore my demands, Dad sighed, "You know about Ra's al Ghul, you know that he's been missing for fifteen years."

Nodding, I asked, "Who was the woman talking?"

"It was Talia, his daughter. Her message is on a transmission Barbara intercepted. We haven't been able to verify where it was sent from, but we know it is her."

"What does she want?"

"It seems… as if she is trying to warn us. That her father is still active, that he's been planning something in the years he has been off of our radar."

"Why would she do that, why would she warn you?"

He sighed again, "It's a long story, Mattie." From his tone, a barrage of questions wasn't going to get the answers I wanted. I was worried because he was sugar coating it, unlike when the Joker had been on our tails…

"Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you trust me?"

"Mattie, we don't know what it means. It could be a trap or a decoy or complete nonsense. Until we figure it out, there's no point in putting everyone on edge with worry. Not after what we faced already this year."

Knowing my father's penchant for hiding information in order to protect his family, I asked, "Does Mom know?"

I wasn't surprised when Dad shook his head, "No."

With the boldness from earlier returning, I found the courage to threaten, "If you don't tell her, I will."

"Mattie, this isn't up to you to-."

Standing up, I pointed at him, "You can't keep lying to everyone!"

"That is enough, young lady," he grumbled as he rose to his feet in order to stare down at me.

"No, it's not! You can't keep lying to Mom!"

"Mattie," he started to cut me off, but his voice lacked any conviction.

"She trusts you, she would do anything for you! And you-," I stopped screaming suddenly as his face grew pale and silent, his eyes blinking with too much effort behind the simple task.

Oh, no…

As he started to collapse, eyes rolling into the back of his head, I tried to catch him to help him to the floor. I managed to latch onto his arm, doing what I could to lower him more slowly but with him being twice my size, he still landed hard. As his torso went rigid, his limbs straightened at his sides, I remembered why we hadn't fought all summer long. Anxiety and stress were priming factors for the tonic-clonic seizures he suffered following his fall to the Joker.

I had been his caretaker all vacation long and I had just pushed him over the edge into a grand mal seizure.

It wouldn't have been nearly as bad but he was just at the tail end of being off his old medication in order to cleanse his system for the switch to barbiturates. In the two weeks he was flushing the tegretol out of his system, he had suffered an increasing number of episodes, forcing him to stay home from work in order to rest. Nathan had seen one of the bad seizures and had been scared of Dad for two days.

After all I had seen in my life, it was regrettably old hat.

Without thinking, I grabbed one of my tear stained pillows and carefully put it between Dad's head and the side of my bed. I then tried to move him onto his side, but again he was just too big for me to do more than pull fruitlessly. As Alfred and Leslie had taught me, I kept on eye on the time while undoing the top three buttons of his shirt. Thankfully, it wasn't that aggressive of an attack and he seemed to be staying in the same spot on the carpet as his brain sent the wrong signals to his body. I had seen him suffer far worse, his body taking on a life of its own, even thrashing violently when he had still been in the hospital.

Fifty seconds.

His eyes had started fluttering and his arms began drawing themselves up to cross over his chest, twitching and jerking unnaturally.

Sixty seconds.

As much as I wanted to go and get Alfred, I knew I had to stay with Dad until after the episode ended.

Seventy seconds.

His face had been pale but was starting to take on a blueish color, his lungs unable to draw in oxygen.

Eighty-two seconds.

I found that my tears had returned, although I wasn't sure if it had been from relief as his body began to relax or from fear for having to sit by and watch what I had done to him. With all of the energy I had left, I pushed him up on to his side, holding his head up long enough to put the pillow underneath it. I quickly pressed my ear to his lips, sighing when deep, hungry breaths finally came.

"It's okay, Dad, I'm here," I started offering the same soothing words he had given me moments earlier, rubbing his back and waiting for his eyes to open.

Eight minutes.

"Dad? Can you hear me?" I asked.

He blinked slowly before nodding even more languidly.

As I had been instructed, I proceeded to ask him questions in order to test his short term memory and brain function. By the time he was lucid, sitting upright with his back against the bed, Alfred had knocked once more and I bid him to enter. Seeing the disarray we both were in, concern flooded his face but I was quick to explain, "We're okay, Alfred. No more fighting."

Not convinced, Alfred approached us, looking intently at the exhausted figure beside me, "Master Bruce?"

"I'm… fine…" he answered, his words slurred.

"Sir, I must insist-."

"Fine… in good hands." At that, Alfred had departed, although I expected him to return shortly with a wheelchair to drag my father away in.

Kneeling beside him, I wiped my face with the back of my sleeve, "Truce?"

He looked at me for a moment, then he whispered his reply, "Truce."

"I'm sorry, Dad, I shouldn't have-."

He shook his head slowly, his voice thick and slurred, "My fault… not yours. Friends can come… if you want."

Having my friends over was the last thing on my mind after the last ten minutes. I hugged him, then pulled back to kiss his cheek before offering a rare, "Thanks, Daddy."

Although it took some effort, he smirked.

^V^

"What's today?" she had asked.

"Friday."

"What did you have for dinner?" Mattie had continued her post-seizure interrogation. Where Alfred and Leslie often focused intently on hard facts, Mattie had always liked to spice it up a bit.

"Haven't eaten… yet."

She had smirked briefly before asking, "What are you going to get me for Christmas?"

"Mattie…" I had tried to warn but I could barely utter her name, let alone growl it.

"Sorry, couldn't hurt to try…"

Not wanting her to see how bad I actually felt, I had distracted her and myself by praising her ever developing medical skills. She had been quick to assure me, "Dr. Wayne is always on-call, Dad." Even with the smirk still on her lips, she had been unable to hide the worry in her eyes.

Mattie had been at my side most of the summer, braving the harsh first few weeks I had been home from the hospital with courage I couldn't even fathom. Then again, not all girls her age had witnessed as many medical travesties as she had. From her illness as a toddler, to the car accident shortly before Selina and I had been wed, all of the injuries we had endured fighting crime… and yet the worst of it had happened in the last six months.

Cassandra, Will and Dick being shot.

Tim's father and step-mother being brutally murdered.

And myself, falling at the hands of the Joker, with wounds that would never mend.

Too much, too fast, too soon.

Somehow, she had taken it all in stride. In the midst of our lives falling to pieces, she had pushed forward, creating her own vigilante identity and getting her first taste of crime fighting. As upset as I had been with her when she had snuck into the city or when she had escaped the Watchtower, there was an underlying sense of pride. Mattie, as did Selina and Alfred, constantly had to remind me that she was no longer a little girl.

More specifically, my little girl…

As expected, Alfred came back for me mere minutes later, armed with not only a wheelchair but with Leslie. In the time he had been gone, I had managed to regain my senses and my vitals, although the sudden fatigue and disorientation wasn't going anywhere. When they arrived, I smiled at Mattie and forced my voice to be even and convincing, "Why don't you get ready… for tonight. I know you still had to set things up downstairs."

"They don't have to come over-."

I cut her off, "No… It's the end of summer… Use it wisely."

She then looked to Alfred who had sided with me, "No time to waste I'm afraid, Miss Mattie. We have quite a bit of work to do in order to prepare for… make your own pizzas."

When she had finally left my side and headed into the bathroom, I did my best to climb up in to the wheelchair, not wanting to rely on Alfred and Leslie to lift me. Once situated, Leslie was quick to check my vitals and ask me questions regarding times, places and events. After answering them gruffly and insisting I just needed to rest, they escorted me out of the bedroom and down the hall.

Thankfully, Selina had been with Nathan downstairs, picking out a movie to watch after dinner. My young son had not taken to my physical changes as well as his sister had, and I certainly had no intention to make it any harder for him. The last grand mal I had endured, he had witnessed it in its entirety, something that had caused him to be fearful of me. It had taken a great deal of reassurance, but he was finally starting to see passed what had happened.

Reaching the master bedroom, I pulled myself out of the chair and onto the bed before Alfred could make a move to stop me. Once sitting upright, I did my best to ignore the look on his face. As painful as my condition was personally to deal with, it was taking its toll on my Family, not just my children.

Leslie, who had disappeared into the master bath briefly, returned with a glass of water and three white tablets, "At this point, we're better off just starting the Phenobarbital. This week we'll try for two hundred milligrams a day, then work our way up as needed."

I didn't need the water, but I took it anyway, washing down the pills before asking, "How long until they take effect?"

Sitting beside me on the bed, Leslie replied, "Realistically, its full effect won't be evident for another week, but with a loading dose, it should lessen the tonic-clonic episodes substantially in the next few days."

Alfred stood by stoically, his eyes darting from my pale face to random spots around the room.

"I recommend you stay home tomorrow night," Leslie added, "Continue taking it easy until we have everything sorted out."

Rather than respond directly, I simply cleared my throat. Bruce Wayne's presence would be a big boost for DJG Security's event, one that I wasn't willing to forgo simply because of personal reasons. I had long since promised to attend, as had other members of the WE board, including Lucius Fox. As it had always been, my simply being at a social gathering increased publicity tenfold, something that they needed for the firm.

Leslie's voice drew my attention, "Well, let's get you changed… settled in for the night. I'll get a waste basket in case you have any nausea."

"I'm fine, Leslie, I just need to rest for a while," I explained despite being barely able to keep my eyes open

She reached out and put a hand on my shoulder, "I'm not kidding, Bruce. You can't keep pushing yourself like this. It's different now, this is something that's not going to go away if you are stubborn long enough."

Sighing, I nodded, "Fine. Send Selina up when you go downstairs."

Leslie rose to her feet, smiling down at me before kissing my brow and leaving without another word. Alone, Alfred finally found his voice, "Shall I have Dr. Tompkins examine Miss Mattie as well?"

"No... she actually _is _fine," I grumbled while pulling my shirt off.

Letting my legs hang over the side of the bed, I undid my belt and slipped my jeans and socks off while Alfred retrieved flannel pants for me to change into. That simple of an act had my head spinning and my breaths coming slightly faster. It was barely dusk and I was more than ready to crawl into bed and sleep away the next twelve hours. Nathan, regrettably, would have to settle for his evening's entertainment to be spent with his mother and surrogate grandparents as opposed to looking at the heavens with me.

As I felt my head starting to fog over from the medication, Alfred asked if I desired anything else. Knowing my stomach would be the next to start swirling, I requested a wastebasket, just in case. Even after retrieving one from the bathroom, he refused to leave my bedside until I was actually under the covers and leaning back into the stack of pillows. Alfred then wished me a peaceful rest before departing, dimming the lights enough to further induce drowsiness.

Feeling my body growing numb, I did my best to focus on breathing evenly as a way to deter the lightheadedness. It was difficult to say if it was more of a direct result of the Phenobarbital or residual effects of the seizure. Either way, I felt horrible.

For three months, I had felt horrible.

And there was little doubt in my mind that it would change just because of new meds…

"Bruce?" I heard Selina entering the room, quietly closing the door behind her, "Are you okay, Leslie just-."

"It wasn't that bad…" I assured her as she approached the bed.

Rather than sit next to me as Leslie had moments earlier, Selina moved to her side and navigated over the mattress. After she reclined next to me, Selina rested her face on my pillow before kissing my cheek. Despite the drowsiness and blurry vision, I suddenly felt a fraction better.

"I didn't even know you two had come upstairs…" she whispered into my ear.

Rather than lying to her, especially since our daughter would inevitably reveal what had happened, I offered, "We fought… she… she yelled at me, down in the Cave."

"Hunh?" Selina asked, her arm moving to rest over my torso, "What for?"

"I wouldn't tell her about something Tim was working on… and she snapped at me… and she swore."

"No more HBO for her," Selina kissed my cheek again, "What did you do?"

I paused before saying, "I told her to go to her room… that her sleepover was canceled."

"Bruce…"

"I apologized… after, told her I was wrong. Shouldn't have yelled at her."

There was a long moment where we remained silent, Selina gently caressing my bare chest, sneaking her hand under the covers and then trekking back up to my pectorals. I tried not to think that her fingertips were absently tracing my most recent scars from where the Joker had used Huntress' crossbow arrows to carve up my sides. Unfortunately, it seemed to be the only image my mind was able to focus on.

She finally said, "At least you didn't knock the door down again."

"No… but… she had been crying… when I finally caught up with her… was having an asthma attack… after she was settled down, she started yelling at me again."

"And that's when you had your seizure?"

"Yep."

Selina sighed, "Leslie said she started the Phenobarbital."

"Yep," I repeated myself.

"High as a kite, yet?" she tried to joke.

"Spinning like one," I answered.

"My poor baby…" she kissed my cheek again, "Well, I'll keep Nathan entertained downstairs, hopefully keep him away from Mattie and her friends…" When I didn't say anything, she continued, "And we can take it easy tomorrow, I'll have the kids rearrange their bedrooms or something… then stay home instead of going to the banquet…"

I shook my head slowly, "No, we have to go. Even if it's only for a little while."

"We'll see," she responded.

Another silent minute passed before I made the effort to wrap my arm around Selina's shoulders.

… _If you don't tell her, I will…_

"Mom? Dad?"

We both looked to the door just as Mattie entered the bedroom. She had showered and taken the effort to dry and straighten her hair, the added length making it reach the middle of her back. Seeing how it was a girl's night, she had dressed casually in black cotton shorts and her gymnastic team's white and blue shirt. Keeping her voice low, she crossed the room, "I'm going to go downstairs, start helping Alfred."

Selina sighed, "Okay, kiddo, I'll be down in a bit."

Before leaving, Mattie looked me over, "Are you okay?"

"Are you?" I countered.

She smirked before answering, "Yeah… What kind of pizza do you want, Dad?"

Having taken the meds on an empty stomach, I knew adding pizza wasn't the wisest decision, even though it would be perfectly crafted by my daughter. Instead of letting her down, I said, "Surprise me."

Not long after, Selina left as well, promising to be back up as soon as she had Nathan fed and tuned into a movie. I offered for him to come up and watch one with me, knowing full well I would be asleep the second after the opening credits rolled. As she opened the door to leave, a black blur raced across the room and catapulted onto the bed. As a faint weight stalked up my body, I smirked when bright green eyes and fully dilated pupils came into my line of sight.

"I'll leave you boys to it…" Selina said before closing the door behind her.

Kitten settled his little haunches just below my left collarbone, his eyes still intensely focused on my face as his tail twitched across my chest.

"Easy, buddy," I offered before reaching out to stroke the hair over his spine.

Having been practically feral when Cassandra had recovered him from Crime Alley, he had quickly adapted to domestic life, save for his sporadic moments of insanity. Where Isis had been a cool and collected feline and Tafffy practically a furry throw pillow, Kitten was far more active. He was prone to bouts of climbing the drapes, taking jewelry off of the dresser and causing assorted chaos. In spite of his shenanigans, he had taken to not only myself but naturally to Selina. He purred and relaxed in her arms where he was more apt to try and entice me to play with him.

His pink tongue stood out as he suddenly darted it over his black lips.

I prepared for an attack by closing my eyes and hoping for him to at least make it fast. What I wasn't prepared for was the sandpaper rough tongue lapping at my chin. Looking once more, I sighed to see he had decided that I was in no condition to roughhouse and instead needed his gentler side.

Even the damned cat was coddling me.

^V^

Saturdays were meant for sleeping.

In my line of work, both professional and voluntary, sleep was not a commodity, it was a luxury. Having started my crime fighting career well over a decade earlier, I had learned to function on mere hours of sleep each night, if that. But as with any normal person, weekends had always and would always be designed for sleeping in.

As a teenager, my dad had to practically drag me out of bed on Saturday afternoons and when I had lived on campus at the beginning of college, I never made it to breakfast at the cafeteria. I had continued my weekend rituals after getting my first apartment, but it wasn't long before I had stepped off of the bachelor path to move in with Cass. Also known as the one person in the world that never slept in.

She had always been able to start her day bright and early no matter how late she had gone to sleep after patrols. What was even worse, Cass never just lounged around after waking, she went for morning runs and did hours of yoga and katas. There had been a time that I had tried take after her steadfast example, but it had been unsuccessful. I had a number of Bruce's qualities and had learned to adapt some of his traits, but thriving on sleeplessness would never be one of them.

I wasn't surprised that Cass snuck out of the bed at a little before seven on Saturday morning. She was always keen on making sure Robbie was fed and let out on as close of a schedule as she could maintain. While I heard them outside, the Boxer's excited yips along with Cass's laughter, I was not enticed from my down filled haven. Nor was I lured from the bed when the faint aroma of bacon made its way to the second floor.

It wasn't until eleven that I finally rose, partially because the house had gone silent but mostly because my bladder was protesting. Patrols had been fairly easy given how chaotic our night lives had been for the first half of the year. Even with just the two of us out there, we managed to tour the city thoroughly and on occasion had even trekked to the Haven in Dick's stead. Drug and weapon trafficking, gang activity, illegal gambling outfits, car jacking rings… it was a walk in the park after the Joker.

Seeing how I had showered after patrols nearly eight hours earlier, I had settled on only brushing my teeth and a change of clothes. With the banquet that evening, I had more than enough time to spiffy up later in the day. I found a clean pair of khaki shorts cut off at my knees, a pair of leather flip flops in dire need of replacing and lime green cotton tee-shirt declaring: Cleaning Ladies Are Neat!

Hopefully, Alfred wouldn't drop by and disapprove of my outfit.

Jogging down the stairs, I called out Cass's name but wasn't met with a reply. Trekking to the kitchen, I smirked to see she had left me a note on the fridge, secured by a plastic B letter magnet:

_Meeting Selina, Barbara and Mattie for the salon. Then lunch. Then back to the salon. Be awake by four and you can see if I went for the total package._

I laughed aloud at that, thinking back on what had happened when Cass had gone to the salon with our adult Family members before Dick and Barbara's wedding. Aside from manicures, pedicures, facials and hair treatment, the total package had included a Brazilian wax, something that Cass had not been prepared for. After she had divulged the horrors of her beautification process to me the night after their reception, she had sighed, "Been shot, stabbed, burned… Nothing… ever… hurt like that."

Being the younger and considerably less wiser man that I had been at the time, my first response had been, "Can I see?"

Naturally, I had woken up on the floor a minute later with Cass standing over me.

It would have been easy enough to head to the Cave to catch up on log entries or to grab my iPod and take Robbie for walk around the property to search for his collection of missing tennis balls. Seeing how the dog was already passed out in the living room, I decided to join him on the couch. Robbie wagged his nub of a tail as I roughed up the hair on his tummy, lifted his head long enough to lick my arm before settling back down into the pillows. With the silence starting to make me uneasy, I reached for the remote on the coffee table and turned the TV and Blu Ray player on. As the system came to life, I found myself smirking sadly.

Earlier that year, I had spent an afternoon helping my father install the surround sound system that Dana had bought him. After Cass and I had moved into the house, I had left everything in the living room as it had been, even keeping the furniture as Dad had kept it.

Before my thoughts drifted into darker waters, I selected the player option and started the disc. I had it paused from the previous night where Cass and I had watched it while eating crab rangoons, wonton soup and Ling Mung Gai. Our impromptu photographer for the wedding reception had regrettably lost control over the video camera she had brought to the likes of Dick and his comrade Roy Harper. _Ti many martoonis_, they had been adamant that I had requested they film the remainder of the reception and she had obliged. The result had been nearly two hours of sporadic clips of Dick and Roy interviewing guests, accidentally filming the floor as they stood in line for the bathroom along with very bad sing-alongs.

In flawless clarity, the surround sound speakers came to life and I smiled as Dick, Roy, Wally and Will jointly bellowed Don't Stop Believing. Their faces were reddened with excitement and alcohol, their eyes were bright with mischief and not a single one of them sang in key. The performance was cut short when whoever was holding the camera for them said, "Bruce is coming!" It cut in and out for another twenty minutes, catching Mattie and Terry slow dancing, a far too close close-up of Selina's cleavage along with jumpy footage of way too many plain clothed superheroes doing the Chicken Dance. I had watched the video eight times and it never got old.

When it went to black, I left it to play out while I went to get a bottle of water. Upon returning to the living room, I was surprised to see that the screen had jumped to a scene I had not been aware of. Then again, whenever Cass and I had watched the video, we often left abruptly to head out to patrols, leaving Robbie as the only one of us to have seen it in its entirety. Dick was holding the camera towards his face and there were barely any other guests in the background. The DJ and his assistant could be seen in the far right packing up their equipment and the caterers walked back and forth cleaning up the tables.

Smiling, Dick spoke directly into the camera's face, "Well, I think that about does it. None of the rogues showed up, no terrorists, no global takeovers… Roy may or may not have puked in the garden by the pool… but I made sure he puked like a man, standing up. I just want to say… you got me, little bro. You got all of us. And for you to pull one over on the old man… kudos, my friend."

Wally sped by in the background, a fraction of a second long blur of far too much flesh for him to have been wearing clothing.

I heard Barbara call out to her husband and he waved before shouting back, "Two seconds, Babs!" The smirk on Dick's face faded suddenly and his eyes softened, "And… I know this year has been bad for us… but I know it hit you the worst… and… I just want you to know… your dad would be proud of you…"

He bit his lip and for a moment I thought I saw his eyes watering up. Then, out of no where, he grinned, "And… we need to have a serious talk about your dance moves, or lack thereof… but another time. Enjoy your wedding night, little bro, don't let Cass be the man!"

The end.

I decided to take Robbie out after all and we managed to find six tennis balls, three rubber Kong toys and his stuffed squirrel that had regrettably lost its tail. Returning to the house, he was spent and I was regretting having not put on sun screen. He followed me back inside, gulped down half of a bowl of water and them promptly passed out on the cold, kitchen floor.

Since a nap was the last thing I needed, I decided to play the dutiful husband by picking up the kitchen, rotating laundry and running the dust mop over the hardwood floors. From there, I checked my e-mails, downloaded far too many songs on iTunes and then settled down for lunch. After a roast beef sandwich and the rest of the vegetable platter Mattie had made us earlier in the week, I was spent. Cass was due back in less than two hours, and if she caught me dozing on the couch while she had been out getting tortured, it wouldn't matter how many household duties I had performed in her absence.

Certainly enough time to do next door for a visit. But after the way things had ended the day before…

Without being told, I was already under the assumption that Mattie was going to be grounded, at least from her training time with Cass and I. If she wasn't allowed to have her girls over for a slumber party, there was no way he was going to let her play in the Cave. I often mused that where Mattie had been an angel in her younger years, her entrance into the teenaged era had been something of a challenge. Granted it had coincided with an upheaval in the Family, but since things had settled, she had not.

Add in the fact that Bruce, for the third time in his life, was trying to adapt to his new limitations…

I opted to continue entertaining myself at home. Putting calls into both Dick and Will, we agreed to meet at five-thirty and make sure we had everything in order. Dick seemed to be a bit on edge but I knew he was keen on making sure everything went as smoothly as possible. To set him at ease, I offered, "Hey, Bruce will be there, that instantly makes tonight a win."

It was then he admitted, "Actually, he might not be coming."

"What?" I asked while standing in our walk-in closet. I had decided to get a head start by picking out my ensemble for the evening.

"Guess he wasn't feeling well last night… and Selina said he wasn't doing much better today."

The quarrel he had with his daughter the day before, the one I had witnessed and whatever had happened upstairs in the manor, had no doubt instigated something. I knew he was home until he was switched to his new medication routine but I honestly hadn't seen any problems or signs of illness. Then again, Bruce was never one to show weakness…

After hanging up with him, I showered, shaved, clipped my finger nails and proceeded to get dressed. Fresh from her afternoon out, Cass would only need to don her dress before we headed into the city. Robbie finally joined me in the bedroom, using his canine radar to detect the fact that I was wearing nice clothes and needed to be jumped on.

"No-ho-ho, pal…" I pushed him off and pointed to his bed, "I have to be clean at least once in my life."

As I was running a lint roller over my pants leg, I heard Cass call out, "Looking fine at twenty-nine."

"Thanks," I offered, stepping out of the bathroom. "You don't look half bad yourself."

And she didn't. Her short, straight hair was never treated to anything more than a shampoo and air drying but the stylist had brought it to life with soft waves and substantial volume. She had held her ground on the makeup though, only allowing herself to be touched up with some eye shadow and lip gloss.

I walked over and kissed her cheek, detecting a new perfume coming from her neck, "Smell good, too."

"Saying I don't smell good normally?" her perfectly plucked brow rose.

Before dashing out of the room, I stammered, "… I'm going to… go pull the car around."

Racing downstairs, I tried to get my mind on the task ahead, including the presentations Dick, Will and I had prepared to lure customers back to our side. It wasn't that any of us needed the firm to bounce back to its former glory, even Will would never have to worry given the friends he had made. We certainly had enough clients that had stayed on after what had happened earlier in the year to stay afloat, but the rumors swirling the industry were heartbreaking. It was more along the lines that the firm was something we had all put effort into over the years, including the late Jim Gordon, and we weren't about to let it fall to pieces because of the Joker.

Back in June, when Bruce had finally been released from the hospital, I had gone through the motions of trying to get the office back in order. I already had arranged for professional cleaners to come in and clean up after the forensic teams along with a contractor to replace the carpets in Will and Jim's offices. The cleaners had done their best, but even they couldn't work their magic on such massive blood stains.

The only room that needed to be tended to was Jim's office. Will's had been untouched by the Joker but the fight between him and Dick had resulted in chaos. Seemingly pointless, I had the leather office chair reupholstered where the batarangs had sliced into the back support. From there, I had dusted and rearranged the photographs and books on the shelf and the desk until they were exactly where they belonged.

I had been in the process of trying to fix the phone when there had been a knock at the door followed by Will's voice, "Thinking of all of the times Jim threatened to throw that phone out of the window, I don't think he'll mind if you can't save it.

He had joined me for the rest of the afternoon, helping make sure everything was as it needed to be. We even went through the motions of replacing outdated magazines in the lobby and stocking printers with paper and toner cartridges. With the firm spotless and ready for business, I had still been unable to shake the images that tainted my former haven. Police evidence markers, Kelsey's grim face, the pools of still damp blood where Will and Dick had been gunned down. I had imagined it was only worse for Will to be there…

For the night, I had already picked out the black Lexus ISF that my father had treated himself to the previous summer and that I had unfortunately inherited. It could hit sixty miles per an hour in four seconds backed by a eight-speed Sport Direct Shift transmission. When he had picked it up at the dealer in Bristol, we had taken it out back on the county highway, clocking out at just under a hundred and seventy miles per an hour.

He had a grin on his face the entire time he had been behind the wheel.

The passenger door opened suddenly and I smiled to see Cass had opted on the black knee length dress with white piping. Naturally, she had flat, black shoes on, never one to compromise her agility for the sake of fashion. "Ready?" Cass asked

"Ready to roll out."

Fourteen miles to Gotham City flew by as I sped the entire drive. Seeing how it was pointless to drive back, change in the Cave and then head into Gotham, we both had cycles and suits at our previous Sat-Cave in Bryanttown, ready and waiting. Unlike Bruce when he used to attend Wayne Foundation functions long enough to be seen by the right people, Cass and I intended to stay for the entire duration. That was unless we were called elsewhere.

Since the Joker's apprehension, Kelsey had been surprisingly warm and willing towards us. Whatever large scale crimes we had solved over the summer, she had been quick to show her gratitude and welcomed any evidence we submitted. Bryce, who had been cooperative since he first took the office of District Attorney, was pleased to see the commissioner's change of heart. All it had taken was nearly six months of nonstop terror and a few hundred dead bodies.

Arriving, I had tentatively handed over the keys and a tip to the valet. Stepping around the front of the car, I put a hand on Cass' back and guided her up the stairs to the front entrance. The guests wouldn't arrive for at least another hour and a half, giving us plenty of time to make sure everything was in order. After coat check, we made our way to the main dining hall where we had dozens of tables set up, clothed in blue and gold and plated with full dinnerware placings.

I found Dick and Will on the small stage that had been set up at the front of the room, being outfitted with microphone nubs to the lapels of their jackets by a pair of technicians. Dick cleared his throat before facing the empty banquet hall, arms spread out, although his left was considerably lower, "Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls of all ages, if I could direct your attention to the middle of the center ring…"

Will laughed into his microphone, "You can take the boy out of the circus…"

^V^

Despite the fact she could have easily been with Katarina, Angie and Piper, sprawled all over the various couches in the den, Mattie treated Bruce and I to breakfast in bed shortly after eight on Saturday morning.

She left promptly after delivering the tray, including coffee and ice water, leaving to join her comatose companions downstairs. Before digging in, I excused myself to check on Nathan, relieved to see he and Ace were both snoring away. Returning to the master bedroom, I side tracked to the bathroom briefly. After taking my own meds, namely bio-identical hormone capsules and a multivitamin, I went about retrieving Bruce's pills.

Thymic protein tablet, Omega-3, creatine and calcium supplements, Aleve, Prilosec, Phenobarbital…

A real mouthful.

I poured them into a paper cup and then returned to the bed, setting it on the breakfast tray before situating myself under the covers. While I had been gone, Bruce had pushed himself to sit upright against the pillows and had also put his hearing aides in.

"Thanks," he said softly.

"Food first?" I asked.

"Coffee first," he replied, tentatively raising the cup to his lips.

The night before had been his first on his new meds and save for a brief spell of nausea, he had faired well and actually slept through the night. I, on the other hand, had woken almost every hour, instinctively looking at him in the darkness and making sure he was okay. As if the first part of the year hadn't been torturous enough, the last two months and specifically last two weeks had been more than I could handle.

I should have been grateful that normalcy was the challenge I was facing between school shopping and getting ready for a barrage of football practices for Nathan and all of the clubs Mattie intended on joining. Life at the Preserve and at home had once more become my time consuming and fulfilling existence. But regrettably, I had to find a way to physically and emotionally juggle that along with supporting Bruce as he tried to acclimate to post-brain damaged life once again. He had made it clear on several occasions that he didn't want me to sacrifice my time and energy on his behalf.

I had to remind Bruce that the role of a spouse was to stand by the other in a time of need.

But where he had suffered the most in the last two weeks, I had been pleased to see that instead of drawing away he was forthcoming in his thoughts and concerns, both about his health and about life in general. He was frank when he discussed what it would mean when he was on barbiturates and how he would still have to be even more careful with his activity levels. In addition, Bruce expressed his wariness with Mattie's training, namely about how fast she was working through it. Fifteen years ago, if someone had told me that there would be a time when I would be having nightly heart-to-heart discussions with Bruce, I would have laughed. Now, it seemed odd not hearing his voice as we lay in bed, my fingers tracing the scars on his chest while his arm circled my back. Although I would have preferred pillow talk of a lighter topic…

"What has our child concocted?" Bruce asked as he began investigating the plates on the tray.

We sampled what ended up being pear pancakes along with crispy sausage and still steaming banana bread. Halfway through, Bruce took four of his pills and washed them down with his entire glass of water. From there, he had picked at the rest of his plate, practically inviting me to steal his remaining banana bread.

"I was saving that for later."

Lifting my fork to his throat, "Call me a thief, I know you want to."

Rather than respond, he simply took my water glass and used it to wash the rest of pills down.

I stabbed my fork into a cube of pancake and put it to my lips before saying, "So, you slept on it. Have you made a verdict?"

Bruce put the empty water glass down on the night stand next to him, "I think I'll go… Worst case scenario, we can always leave early."

I chewed slowly and swallowed, "You sure?"

He nodded before running a hand through his gray hair, "I actually feel better than I have all week."

"Well, you should, you were out like a light last night."

"Nervous system depressing barbituates will do that."

I hid the slight cringe I was unable to contain by wiping my mouth with a linen napkin.

Although Bruce had been more open of late, he had at times been too blatant when it came to his health and care. What he considered cold, hard fact often did something cold and hard to my gut.

"I also decided that… as punishment for her behavior yesterday afternoon… Mattie will not be attending the banquet." When I nodded instead of defending our daughter, Bruce continued, "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

"You want to."

I shook my head before rising from the bed and gathering the tray, "Don't do the crime if you can't do the time."

He glared at me and I blew him a kiss.

Leaving him to start his day at whatever pace he desired, I carried the remnants of breakfast down the hall, returning once more to Nathan's open bedroom door. Whistling lowly, Ace jumped to his feet, rousing my son in the process, and leapt off of the bed. He trotted up to me and sat while staring up eagerly. I gave him the last scrap of sausage and then called, "Come on, Nate, let's get up."

With all the theatrics he could muster, Nathan rolled out of bed and pretended to fall, twisting at the last second to land on his feet. As he stood upright, he fixed his pajama pants and then ran over to me, stepping around Ace in order to hug my legs, "Morning, Mommy."

"Morning, baby," I leaned over and kissed his disheveled black hair.

Where Mattie was getting her haircut with us that day, Bruce was going to take Nathan to get his done at the barber in town the following week. It was the one ritual that Bruce had seen to right from the beginning with his youngest son, one they both enjoyed thoroughly. And with school fast approaching, the summer style of short and cropped wasn't going to fly any longer, he had first grade school pictures to prepare for.

"Is Dad asleep?" he asked, resting his chin on my hip in order to stare straight up at me.

"Nope, but he may need someone to get him out of bed. Why don't I take Ace down with this and you can go make sure he gets up."

Nathan looked down the hall towards our bedroom door before glancing back up at me, "Can you come with me?"

"What?"

He shrugged, letting me go before saying, "Can you come with me?"

"To see Dad?" I asked. When he nodded, I asked, "Why?"

Nathan sighed before saying, "I don't know."

Earlier in the week, he had been unfortunate enough to walk in on Bruce having a seizure in the study. We had just gotten home from shopping for new gear for his upcoming premiere football season while Bruce stayed home to relax. He had been excited upon returning home and had run into the study to show off his new cleats, socks and gloves that he had donned on the ride home from the athletic store. Thankfully, it had been the same afternoon that Barbara had decided to drop by with Ethan and she had been able to entertain my son while Alfred and I took care of Bruce.

In a way, it had been a good thing that Nathan had found Bruce as I had intended on putting everything away before seeking out my husband…

For the next few days, he had been uneasy being around his father by himself, something that literally broke my heart, nearly as much as it did Bruce's. We had explained in detail many times over the summer about his condition and the changes in his health, modified into six-year-old-ese. Nathan seemed to have taken everything in stride, as he had his entire life. Although he had seen a number of Bruce's absence seizures, it was the first time he had seen the grand mal variation.

"Nate, we talked about this, hon… Dad's okay… he has new medicine…"

"Is he going to get better soon?"

"Eventually," I lied, taking a hand off of the tray to rub his shoulders, "But you know what will help make him feel better sooner?"

"What?"

"A hug," I smiled down at him.

The frown on my son's face vanished as he bolted down the hall, screaming out, "I'm coming, Dad!"

Finally making it to the kitchen, I wasn't surprised to see that Alfred and Leslie were sharing breakfast and tea in the nook. I allowed myself a smile upon realizing that they had decided to dress comfortably for the day, Leslie in khakis and a blue blouse and Alfred in dark slacks and a white button up shirt. Perhaps they would finally treat themselves to a day out and about…

I quickly and quietly rinsed the dishes and put them in the dishwasher before letting Ace out through the service entrance. When I returned, I was greeted by Alfred who was quick to say, "Ms. Selina, I would have tended to-."

I cut him off, "Alfred."

"Yes, madam?"

I glared at him silently, fighting back a smile.

"Of course, madam," he replied curtly before about facing and returning to the nook.

The rest of the day went fairly quickly. Father and son made their way downstairs and Nathan was more than happy to eat with Alfred and Leslie while Bruce retreated to the study. I checked twice to make sure he was at his desk and hadn't escaped to the Cave, both times earning a look from him. When Mattie's friends had been picked up around ten in the morning, Bruce had emerged in order to talk to her about her impending punishment. Surprisingly, she took the news well and seemed to have been expecting it.

It must have been one hell of a fight.

Less than an hour later, Cassandra had arrived at the Manor and rode with Mattie and I into the city to meet Barbara for a day of pampering. Save for Tim and Cassandra's wedding reception, we hadn't attended a public social event in far too long. There was no need for pesky eyebrow hairs or split ends to get in the way of a proper evening. Aside from spending time with the female members of the Family, it was nice to get out of house and do nothing for a change. The first half was spent enduring mani-pedis, waxes and facials. After a divine lunch at the spa's restaurant, we had gone back upstairs for hair and makeup. Even though Mattie was not attending the banquet, she still had opted to have her hair straightened and cut by the stylist.

Dropping Barbara at the Clocktower and Cassandra off next door, Mattie and I returned to find the house peaceful. I was happy to see that Nathan and Bruce, along with Ace, were dozing in the entertainment den while the end credits of a movie played. Even more, Nathan was laying on the couch with his head in his father's lap. I left them to head upstairs, pausing when Mattie didn't follow me. When she explained she wanted to go read outside, I smiled, "Sunscreen."

By the time Bruce made it upstairs, I had already picked out his tuxedo and was in the process of looking at my collection of dresses. When I spotted him out of the corner of my eye as he leaned against the door frame, I asked, "What do you think? The tan Rina di Montella or the charcoal Jovani?"

As I held the two dresses in front of me, he smirked, "Jovani."

"Just because you like that it's strapless…" I remarked, putting the tan dress back on the rack.

We were dressed and out the door by quarter after six, leaving the kids under the watchful eyes of Alfred and Leslie, who had in fact spent the day touring the Bristol countryside and sampling markets. Given the nature of the event, Bruce had opted to have the company driver take us down in the town car, of which had rustled a few of Alfred's feathers. Traffic was a bit of a bear, but we had arrived on time in Midtown, the door of the car being opened to fairly good press turnout. The publicity alone would be enough to help the firm out, on top of the efforts that Dick, Will and Tim had put into the banquet.

We had to fight for a good thirty minutes through not only the reporters and photographers waiting outside but also the other guests once we made it to the doors. Everyone was so happy to see Bruce and he did his best to convey the same excitement. Save for a Wayne Foundation event earlier in the summer, it was his first major public appearance since he had been attacked by an "unknown" assailant in Crime Alley.

Gotham had missed its favorite son.

I was pleased to see that everything went without a hitch. Dick acted as the maitre'd for the night, starting off with a warm welcome and words of praise to customers, new and old. He did a wonderful review of the firm and how it came to be, pictures on the projection screen of Jim Gordon making me wibble. As dinner was presented, Will stepped up to the podium, offering insight onto the new developments with meticulous displays, diagrams and images. Tim had then stepped up to the plate, announcing exciting changes in technological security systems and listing the testing they had personally completed.

Lastly, Cassandra joined Tim as he announced their new self defense tutorial classes for all ages and levels of experience with children under the age of sixteen being free of charge. Tim explained that the training center, which was in development on the same floor of the DJG Security firm, was being completely funded by a donation from the Wayne Foundation, earning a monstrous applause. From there, they did a few demonstrations, dressed in their fine clothing and in front of hundreds. Tim charmingly portrayed the assailant while Cassandra effortlessly defended herself.

The crowd had eaten it up, even laughing when she had knocked him to the ground in a single move, leaving him to gasp into his microphone, "She's much nicer to her students than her husband…"

Thankfully, Bruce had felt well enough to stay for the entire night. I had caught him fading several times during the dinner and presentations but he was quick to smile when I squeezed his hand. We had been seated at a private table along with Ronna, Barbara and Ethan, who had surprisingly been quiet all night. That was until Dick had finally made his way over and had the poor child laughing hysterically after a few funny faces.

Although I would never admit it aloud, it made me feel like a very proud mama cat seeing the boys all grown up and all so happy.

Tim and Dick profusely thanked Bruce for coming, along with the donation. After a few necessary publicity photos with Bruce, Lucius, myself and the firm's employees, we called it a night. I sat close to him the entire ride home, my head gently resting on his shoulder. When he didn't answer to my inquiry as to how he was feeling, I sat upright, "Bruce?"

He jerked slightly, "What?" After I repeated my question, he finally sighed, "Tired."

"I bet."

We were five minutes from the Manor when he took my hand into his and glanced over at me, his face taking on a solemn look that always caused my gut to turn cold. He started with, "I have something to tell you… And I don't want you to be upset…"

I listened quietly as he explained why he had been pushing himself of late, why he had been spending so much unnecessary time in the Cave and why he couldn't seem to settle down after what had happened in the spring.

After his confession, he had apologized, "I should have told you sooner, and I know… I keep lying to you like this… and I know it makes you angry…"

Normally, I would have yelled at him for once again keeping something from me, for trying to protect me.

At the very least, I should have hit him or called him an arrogant jackass.

But things had changed between us, in a way that was both good and bad.

Instead of yelling or hitting or name calling, I simply squeezed his hand back.

^V^


	3. Come What May: III

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Halloween is always interesting in Gotham.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Costume shopping dilemma is inspired by actual events.

^V^

I had spent nearly three-fourths of my life striking terror into the hearts of criminals.

I was a decorated officer and a celebrated, albeit retired, homicide detective of the Bludhaven Police Department.

I was a master of dozens of martial arts and a barrage of weaponry.

I wore the guise of Batman twice in my life while my mentor recuperated from injuries and uncertainties.

On top of that, I was a good looking guy, even after all of the strain and suffering I had endured in my thirty-six years. I still had thick, jet black hair, adorably askew after being tussled in frustration. My blue eyes were only second to my bright smile, both of which could be combined to gain complete control over others. I dressed well, wore nice cologne, had proper posture and impeccable manners when in public. Happily married, I couldn't help but notice the effect I had on others, even when I wasn't trying to charm them.

And yet there I was at the Masquerade Shop, the eighth Halloween costume store I had visited that morning, at a loss of what to do.

Instead of waiting in the ridiculously long line at checkout or even battling traffic out in the parking lot, I was arguing with a soccer mom that I could have easily overpowered with both of my arms out of commission.

"Ma'am, you don't understand," I put on the nicest smile I could muster, "If I don't come home with that costume, my wife is going to eviscerate me."

The late forty-year-old succubus before me snarled, "You better stop harassing me, I'm going to go tell the manager."

"Let's not make a scene," I offered, the dimples in my cheeks becoming painful.

It was supposed to have been a simple enough Halloween...

Barbara had finally convinced Jim and Mo to come out and visit for a four day weekend. The main selling point had been to get pictures of Ethan and Sarah together, dressed up for Halloween as a candy corn and a candy pumpkin respectively. Naturally, Jim and Mo had ordered the costume for their daughter weeks in advance and I had claimed to have done the same. I had planned on picking my son's outfit up after work for several weeks but with the Firm busting at the seams with new business, it kept getting pushed aside.

When I had finally confessed my procrastination to Barbara, she had remarkably stayed calm.

Then she had threatened to put my arm back in a sling for another four months if I didn't have a size 2T candy corn outfit for Ethan on October thirty-first.

Knowing her arsenal of weapons, I had taken the threat very seriously and had proceeded to spend the last week before Halloween scouring the internet and the city of Gotham for $24.99 worth of orange, yellow and white cotton cuteness. As expected, every retailer was out of stock on the particular costume but graciously recommended Winnie the Pooh, Elmo and Bamm-Bamm. None of which even closely resembled that which my wife desired… and demanded.

There had been a brief moment where I had pondered asking Mattie to sew one for me, seeing how she had managed to make her own Huntress guise. However, deep down I knew that it would have only been a matter of time before my scheme was discovered. Knowing there must have been other foolish fathers in a similar predicament, I had continued checking with area and even regional stores as their inventories fluctuated while October drew to a close.

Finally, on the thirty-first, just as I was getting ready to cash in my trust fund and rejoin the circus, the call came. In fact eight calls, all informing me that the costume I had been interested in was once more available at their convenient locations. Unfortunately, due to the high demand and despite my cash bribes, they were unable to specifically hold one for me. In my last desperate act, I had forced my way into the eighth costume shop of the day and low and behold, my eyes feverishly had fallen upon the plastic wrapped godsend: Baby Candy Corn.

Just as I had reached for it, fate intervened and it was snagged from the rack by the vulgar and disgruntled woman standing before me.

"My grandson is wearing this costume, pal, so beat it."

Quelling the urge to beat her unrecognizable, I offered "I'll pay you anything you want… A hundred bucks. Two-fifty."

She glared up at me from under the abundant makeup covering her dry skin, "Seriously?"

"Five hundred. I'm not kidding, if I don't come home with that costume, my wife is literally going to kill me," hoping for sympathy, I added, "She showed me the knife."

There was a long moment when I was convinced she was either going to spit in my face or pull out a rape whistle. After seemingly forever, she growled, "Let's see the cash."

I emptied my wallet into her palm, including a business card and an offer for a free home security evaluation. She had laughed in my face, "Please, my brother-in-law is a GCPD cop."

Somehow I bit my tongue, containing the remark that in Gotham that didn't necessarily mean he was a good guy. It took an hour to get through the line behind one of three frenzied clerks but at ten after one I strode out of the hot, hectic store and into the crisp, chilly air. Once my orange plastic bag and I were in the safety of the Range Rover, I let out a sigh of relief.

"Victory," I said to my reflection in the rear view mirror.

Letting the car warm up, I retrieved my cell phone from my leather coat, not surprised to see five missed calls from Barbara. In addition, there was one from Tim's cell.

Bros before… wives.

It rang twice before he answered, "Hey."

"Hey, what's up?"

"Not much… so did you find it?"

"Yes," I sighed before explaining without exaggeration the morning I had endured and had to stop twice for him to blatantly laugh at me.

"Sorry, man… it's just… it's only funny because it would only happen to you."

"Yeah, yeah. Next year I'm buying his costume in August… Where are you on this All Hollow's Eve afternoon?" When he didn't answer, I asked, "Tim? Timmy? Bro?"

A sudden rap on my passenger's side window had me tossing my phone into the ceiling of the car, jumping out of the seat and screaming in a pitch that would have put my soon to be two-year-old son to shame. Regaining composure, I looked to my right to see Tim Drake smiling, the phone still pressed to his ear. Retrieving my phone from in between my leg and the center console, I forcibly hung it up in front of him. When I regained control over my breathing and pulse, I rolled the window down a crack, "I hate you."

"Unlock the door and let me in."

I did, although when he reached for the handle, I locked it again.

"Seriously?" he asked.

"You didn't say please."

"Please, unlock the door and let me in." When I moved to roll the window up, he called out, "I said please."

Giving in, I waited until he was seated before asking, "Where did you come from? And if you say your mother's womb, so help me-."

"Actually, I was in there," he nodded to the store, "Cass and I brought Mattie into town to do some last minute Halloween shopping. It was a little too crazy, so I came out for some fresh air and saw you."

Smirking, I asked, "And what is Mattie being for Halloween?"

"Certainly not Superman…" Tim snickered, "Her father thinks the pirate costume she wore to school yesterday is the one she is wearing to the party at her friend's house tonight."

"And I take it that it's not?"

Tim smirked, "Essentially, although with modifications."

Knowing the trend for adolescent and young women to portray sexier versions of characters on the ghoulish day, I sighed, "I don't even want to know."

"Selina sent Cass knowing that she would keep things in check but without coming off as being controlling like her parents would."

After a beat, I asked, "You two celebrating with early patrols?"

Tim nodded, "Of course it's going to be somewhat decent weather so there's not even that to help deter the hooligans…"

I reached over with my right hand and set it on his shoulder, "Fear not, I will try to resist TP'ing City Hall." When he smirked, I let go of him and added, "And besides, Will is wearing my Nightwing suit while he goes trick-or-treating with the girls, so I'm sure he can help fight crime." Tim glared at me until I confessed, "Just kidding… No way I would let his business touch the inside of my baby black and blues."

Surprisingly, his smirk faded when he said softly, "Not too much longer, right?"

Nodding, I answered, "Right."

Although I was excelling at rebuilding my left arm after its immobilization period, I was still developing coordination and reflex times. Pendulum circle and isometric rotator cuff exercises had nearly brought the injured limb's muscle mass back to its original strength and according to my orthopedic specialist, the range of motion was perfect. But it was perfect for a normal person, not for me.

When I pushed off during handstands or back flips, I could feel it tighten, if only for a second. Throwing bolos at the optimum velocity was a strain and even then my aim was just a hair off, same for batarangs. I had just started practicing repelling at slow speeds and it forced a grimace to my lips whenever the line went taught. Perfect for a normal person wasn't for me.

Even though I had been quick to share my concerns with Barbara, Leslie and even Alfred, I had kept it from the others in true Bat-style. They all agreed that I just needed to continue nice and easy and eventually my doubts would subside as I regained my abilities. It was miraculous that my injuries hadn't permanently crippled me given how extensive they had been. But if I was unable to acquire the skills that I needed to do my job, they very well may have…

"Ah, here they come… listen, want to do something for dinner tonight? Cass and I can bring something over."

"Actually, Babs and Mo are cooking tonight, but you're more than welcome to join."

He reached for the door handle, "We'll bring dessert."

I watched as he joined his wife and his young protégé, both seemingly proud of their orange bagged purchases. He pointed me out to them and as I waved, Mattie trotted over, pulling her bright blue scarf tighter around her neck. With the window rolled down before she arrived, I called out, "What arrrrr you doing?"

Mattie grinned at me before quoting back the Pirates of the Caribbean line, "No, what are you doing?"

"Going as something else tonight?"

She shook her head, "No, just wanted to get a different pair leggings and different skirt… and a hat. Every good pirate needs a hat."

"As long as you are a _good _pirate then…" I led on.

She winked before leaning through the window and kissing my cheek, "I'm the good one. You're the one that gets into trouble, remember?"

Once they walked off to Tim's Honda, I finally backed out of my spot and made the treacherous drive back to Tri-Corner, stopping at the store to pick up a laundry list of groceries for dinner. With Sarah and Ethan under the same roof, we went through twice as many diapers, Motts for Tots juice boxes and Cheerios. Jim and Mo had offered to go shopping for dinner while I was off on my quest but I had assured them it was no problem. That and I knew how uneasy being back in the city made my almost sister-in-law.

After being attacked in their home earlier in the year, they had moved back to Chicago to start life anew but had yet to settle enough to carry through with their wedding. I knew that while they had been visiting us in Gotham, Babs and Mo had talked quite a bit about pushing forward with the ceremony. In doing my part, I had been sure to let Jim know that whatever he needed, he had no reason not to ask. The second night they had been in town, we had been drinking green bottles of Beck's, watching football replays in the den while the women bathed our children. During a commercial break, he had admitted that he felt responsible for his fiancée's uneasiness, about her uncertainties about their wedding.

Although he didn't say the words, the pain on his face had said that he was thinking that she no longer loved him the way she had before the Joker nearly killed them. I had been quick to assure him that if Mo didn't love him, she wouldn't have been down the hall, she and Sarah would have been in Chicago still. They were strong people, living in spite of what had happened. They would eventually move on with their lives and finally find the happiness that they deserved.

If Alfred could, if Bruce could, if I could, if Tim could, anyone could.

^V^

After spending my summer doing anything a normal thirteen year old girl wouldn't, I found that once school had started up, I couldn't resist the temptation. I started going to the movies with my girls, hanging out more with Terry and enjoyed sleeping in Saturday mornings. By the end of October, I was more than ready to celebrate Halloween in style with not only the Friday school dance but a costume party on the actual holiday.

Without too much prompting, Dad had allowed me to go to the dance with Terry knowing there would be teacher chaperones in place. Naturally, he was wary of the sleepover even though I had explained numerous times that the boys had to leave Angie's party by eleven and only the girls could spend the night. He was still convinced that there was enough evil that could have been carried out before the curfew. Thankfully, Mom had once again informed him that I was a smart, young lady and not about to end up on the Maury Pauvich Show.

For the last two months, Dad and I had been back to normal following our collective meltdown at the end of August. He still oversaw some of my training as I worked with Tim and Cass just as he allowed me to be somewhat involved in some of their work on the transmission. Although after a cumulative four and a half months of nothing, it wasn't exactly the Family's prime focus but it certainly wasn't cast aside to the back burner. Ignoring your enemies, no matter how far away they were, was never an option.

In the meantime, Tim and Cass had more than enough to deal with on their own. After a few quiet months following the fall of the Joker, the criminals began to step up to the plate once more. Thankfully, instead of the homicidal maniacs that my father had fought for years, the criminals leaned towards fulfilling their greed and instead of creating chaos. Transportation of drugs, weapons and prostitutes, blackmailing elected officials and bribing police officers were the main corruptions of Gotham once more. Tim joked a week earlier to me that it was if the last twenty-five years had never happened, as if the city had restarted itself with the level of crime that brought Batman into existence.

For the longest time, he and Dick mused that the Rogues were all but "retired", locked away in one institution or another. Even the villains that had risen during his reign as Batman had been no where near as dangerous as those that had come before. They had faced Icarus, who had been intent to collect financially where Firefly had carried out sick childhood dreams. The jailer had carried out his own brand of judgment, killing ex-con's released too early after his wife had been raped and murdered by one. And the drug dealing Hades, who's only link to the devil was that he had poisoned hundreds with his high-octane drugs.

And he had shot Cass and Dick without hesitating…

I had asked if he thought he would ever have his own Joker or Poison Ivy or Riddler. We had been sitting in the training bay after a painful lesson in defense and offense while being restrained. I had been holding an ice pack to the side of my head while he dabbed at his bloody lip. Although he had technically won the confrontation, I had seen to it that if I went flailing to the mats that I wasn't going to be the only one.

After a beat, he had replied, "I hope not."

"You just want to fight drug dealers and pimps?"

He had looked to me sternly but his eyes had softened, "You can't make them sound like they are lesser criminals. They threaten the people of this city. The people we are meant to protect." Tim had paused before adding, "And besides… If that is all I have to face while I wear that mask… it's a blessing."

I had wondered if that included never having to face Ra's Al Ghul if he ever decided to surface but I had kept my mouth shut.

"So what do you want for lunch, Mattie?"

I jerked in the back seat, my eyes finding the reflection of Tim's in the rearview mirror, "Um, I don't care."

"You sure?"

We had been battling Saturday afternoon traffic from the costume shop for the last twenty minutes, trying to make our way out of the commercial district. While my mind had been wandering, my eyes had been glued to the window, watching tired faces as they passed by in taxis, cars and on the street. It took a moment to realize we were in Bryanttown, barely a mile from where Tim and Cass used to live.

Thinking of a treat not available in Bristol, I smiled, "Can we go to the Sushi Bar?"

Tim grinned back at me, "I knew I liked you for a reason."

My parents loved sushi but seeing how Nathan hated it, we rarely enjoyed it as a family. Really, the only time I had a chance to eat it was when I was in the city for doctor appointments or Take Your Daughter to Work days. Dad had taught me at a young age how to properly use chop sticks and how to mix the perfect amount of wasabi with soy sauce and Mom had once let me drink some of her hot sake. A lot of the kids in my grade were grossed out at the mere thought raw fish but I couldn't get enough of it. Thankfully, where my parents had been preoccupied over the summer, Tim and Cass had come to my rescue

Over the summer, I had practically spent every hour I could with my mentors, whether it was training or simply hanging out with them. My mother had interjected once in August to say that I needed to give them their space because they were newlyweds so they could spend time with one another. Tim had been quick to point out that they loved having me around, not only for the company but a firm reminder never to have children. My response had been, "See, Mom, I'm helping their marriage."

She had rolled her eyes and said, "She is all yours."

But thankfully it hadn't been all work and no play. I walked Robbie for them on the days they worked late, we went to the movies on weekends and at least twice a month, we went to the Sushi Bar. Tim often joked that it was the complete opposite of when my father had trained him. According to him, their partnership had been developed through rigorous training, getting yelled at and being put into life and death situations long before he had been ready to handle them.

Tim had trained with the _real_ him.

"Nice," Tim exhaled, snagging on-street parking.

We climbed out and waited for Tim as he fed the meter. Being a Saturday afternoon, the restaurant was busy but we only had to wait ten minutes before getting three stools at the East Bar. Tim stepped in and ordered the lunch special right away, including tea, miso soup, white rice and assorted samples including spicy tuna, tempura, dragon and California rolls. Add in the cute, young chef on the other side of the glass divider in front of us, and it was already a great lunch. The soup and drinks came out instantly and seeing how I hadn't eaten since breakfast with Alfred at six-thirty, I dug in. It wasn't until I was drinking the last of my soup that I realized Tim and Cass were both staring at me and fighting back smirks.

I explained why I was so hungry, but Tim shook his head, turning his gaze back to his own bowl, "No… it's just… You really are starting to fit right in."

Bowl empty, I set it back down, "You're just noticing this?"

Cass, who sat on the other side of him, added, "Slow on the uptake."

Tim sighed, "And now they both turn on me…"

As always, the food was delicious and I had a difficult time focusing on savoring it instead of scarfing it down. When we were done, I smirked when Tim looked to the waitress as she passed by, "Oaiso, kudasai."

She was quick to give him a smile and nod before handing him the check. I watched on as he fished through his wallet, then finally found myself asking, "How many languages do you speak?"

"Too many," he smirked as he handed cash and the bill back to the waitress. When she departed, he looked over at me and counted out on his fingers, "Let's see… fluently or close enough to it... I guess… English, French, Spanish, Japanese, Mandarin, German, Italian, Portuguese… and enough Korean, Russian, Farsi, Greek, Thai and Swahili to keep me from getting beheaded."

"Wow. What about you, Cass?"

She shrugged, "Only three. English. Japanese. Ass-kicking."

I smiled at that, "Guess those are the only three you really need."

Rising from his stool, Tim grunted, "Again, turning on me… not taking you guys out for lunch ever again…"

As we exited the busy restaurant, I asked, "What about Dad, what languages can he speak?"

Tim led the way to the car, "Well, all of the ones I can… plus Hebrew, Cantonese, Filipino, Arabic, Turkish, Polish, Vietnamese, Kryptonian, Swedish… really any language, he knows at least enough of it to get by."

I suddenly wondered how much my father remembered of his vast collection of linguistics, but knew I would never have the courage to ask. I then commented, "Well, maybe you speaking Vulcan counts."

Tim gasped at me but Cass laughed, "Good one."

"Is that it for shopping?" Tim asked once we had all climbed into the car.

Nodding, I replied as I buckled in, "Yeah, I'll use what we got today to modify the costume I already have."

"Can't wear the same thing to the dance and a party," Tim muttered.

"If you were a girl you wouldn't joke about that," I said.

"Good thing I am a dumb boy."

It was at least thirty minutes before we made it to Bristol, although time flew as Tim blasted music over the sound system, even joining in as I belted out song after song. When I rode up with Mom to the Preserve we often had "mobile dance parties" but it was even more fun with my younger mentors. When they pulled back around to the service entrance, I was confused to see a glossy, black Lincoln sedan, not aware that we had been expecting company. Tim and Cass didn't say anything about it and seemed to not even notice it, so I joined them in not making a big deal over a car.

I grabbed my bag and purse and thanked them for the day. Both said it was their pleasure and said for me to enjoy my night off, although not too much. I grinned at them and replied, "I will, thanks!"

Once I had watched them drive off, I approached the new car, noting the clean, leather interior. The only evidence that it belonged to someone was the cardboard cup of coffee in the holder and a pair of black leather gloves in the passenger seat. Although Mom had taught me how to break into a car over the summer, I resisted the urge and decided to figure out who it belonged to in a more ladylike manner.

Entering the Manor, I headed straight upstairs to put my things away before seeking out my family. Before I had left, Mom had said that she was going to take Nathan into town for the Halloween party at the Roberson Museum but said she would be back by three to help me get ready for the party. With it being just after three and the halls of Wayne Manor blissfully silent, I decided they had stayed a bit longer.

Alfred and Leslie were also out, volunteering at the Free Clinic for the day and well into the evening. Both had taken the time to dress up, Leslie as Gilda the Good Witch Doctor in pink sparkly scrubs and a tiara and Alfred had gone as the Tin Man in a silver painted suit and mask. Mom had taken a ton of pictures before they had left earlier that day and had even texted one to me while I had been out shopping.

That left only my Dad and whoever his guest was...

I found them in the study, both seated in the leather arm chairs in front of my father's desk. Although Dad had done remarkably well on his new medication, it sapped his energy and made it difficult for him to complete an entire work week at Wayne Enterprises. I smiled when I recognized the other man, thinking he had the coolest voice ever.

Announcing my presence, I said, "Hi, Dad… hi, Mr. Fox."

Both looked at me as I walked through the open doorway, but Dad continued to frown while Lucius offered a bright smile, "Hello there, Mattie."

They had moved a coffee table to sit between them, acting as a work space for a number of documents and a laptop. Although I wanted to pry, I simply walked over and kissed Dad's cheek before asking, "What are you working on?"

"Not much, kitten," he replied, "When did you get back?"

"Couple minutes ago."

Before he could reply, Lucius rose to his feet, "Well, I actually best get going… Tam's bringing the future in-law's over for dinner tonight."

Dad made it to his feet as well, "Didn't even know she was engaged."

"We're sending out announcements next week… Hard to believe my little girl is all grown up," he smiled down at me before looking back at Dad and offered his hand, "Well, we can finish this on Tuesday. Take it easy, Bruce."

Dad shook it and replied, "You, too, Lucius."

"I can walk you out," I offered, playing Miss Manners, "Since Alfred's not here."

"Oh, that's all right, sweetie. I'll manage."

When we were alone, I looked back to see Dad collecting the paperwork and returning the various packets to marked folders. When he caught me watching, he said, "Your mother will be home soon."

"I know," I replied before taking the chair Lucius had been sitting in, "More fundraising?"

He nodded, stacking the folders before stepping towards his desk and setting them in the center of the blotter. As he returned for the laptop, Dad answered verbally, "More fundraising, grant writing, contractor bids…"

"Lots to do."

"Lots to fix," he countered. For several months he had been diligently working on bringing the powers that be in the city of Gotham together to help bring life and light back into the East End. Through personal, private and corporate donations, state and city funding as well as successful grants, he had brought the funding up to nine digits. I had asked why he didn't just personally pay for it and he had said that it needed to be a citywide effort, not just one man.

Asking help from others was something new.

Something I kind of liked.

^V^

I blamed the piercing headache not only on the abrupt start to my day, but the hatred I had for my wife's creativity and the seemingly endless digital camera flashes.

Eleven hours earlier as the alarm clock read ten after eight, Nathan had acted as my alarm, leaping onto the bed and screaming out, "Boo!"

Ace had opted to be respectful, sitting on the floor while resisting the urge to bark.

Still clad in his Giants pajamas, Nathan had proceeded to jump up and down on the mattress until I opened my eyes. I had looked to my right instinctively, frowning to see Selina was missing. Had she still been in bed, the boy would have acted on his own will. In her absence, I had presumed she had coerced him into action, something that was easily verified when he had admitted, "Mom says you have to get up."

Clearing my throat, I had reached for the hearing aides on the bedside table and nodded, "I'll be down in a little bit."

"You know what day it is, right?" he asked, cutting a final jump short by landing on his bottom.

"I know what day it-."

He took off once again, bounding off of the bed while screaming, "It's Halloweeeeen!"

Again, the dog had been reserved, waiting for me to nod before taking after Nathan.

"It's Halloween," I had sighed to myself. The day had started whether I wanted it to or not.

It had taken nearly four minutes to push myself out of bed and cross the floor to the bathroom, only to find that my robe was hanging over the chaise. Not bothering with the unnecessary trek back, I had proceeded to wash my morning meds down with a glass of water, stripped while the shower water warmed and stretched my back and arms. After a long, hot shower, I had wrapped a towel around my waist before heading to the closet. It had been the third morning I had opted out of shaving and surely it would be the third morning Selina threatened to do it herself.

I had full expectations to wake the first of November with a smooth jaw, whether I had wanted one or not.

With my only official engagements of the day being a meeting at the house with Lucius and dropping Mattie and Nathan off at their respected parties, I had dressed for comfort. Dark jeans with a white tee under a bright blue dress shirt, tucked in but with the top two buttons undone. Given that they offered better support for both my useful and useless limbs, I pulled on a pair of dark sneakers over midnight blue socks. After securing a polished, brown leather belt around my waist, I had paused briefly to pull on a charcoal colored blazer.

Suburban professionalism was the least I could offer Lucius seeing how he was driving out to meet with me…

Considering my laundry list of ailments over the last year, I honestly couldn't have been healthier. With daily exercise and strength training regimens, flexibility in my torso was nearly back to normal and I was able to comfortably walk around without a cane once my joints were limbered. I had been seizure free for ten days, my last episode being a weak forty seconds of minor trembling. But where my finely tuned dosages of barbiturates had done a remarkable job containing my episodes, it had also completely diminished my drive to do anything.

For decades I had thrived on less than three hours of sleep each night but for the last two months I was exhausted before the opening credits of the six o' clock news. I attended as many as Nathan's Junior Pee Wee football practices and games as I could but sitting out in the cold only further sapped me of what little energy I had left. Where I had previously been active in Mattie's tutelage under Tim and Cass, I had found myself leaving her in their capable hands, making it to the Cave if only a nap had been managed during the day. Given the lack of progress on the transmission, I had also deferred it, letting Barbara scan the global airwaves in hopes of a breakthrough.

Even still, I knew my injuries and subsequent medications weren't entirely to blame as I was on the fast track to the wrong side of fifty, an age I never thought I would live to see…

Taking the stairs would have only tired me out and earned stern looks from those on the ground floor, so I had opted for the elevator. I had been accompanied by Kitten, who alternated between attacking my feet and racing circles around me. At one point, he paused and stared up at me, his pupils large against his green irises, and I wondered if a black cat looped around you was still bad luck. When the gilded doors opened, the cat had bolted out, tail straight in the air and feet flying. I, on the other hand, had managed to contain my excitement for the day, walking down the corridor slowly towards the kitchen.

I had assumed that since my son had still been sporting pajamas, that he had been fresh out of bed. Entering the kitchen, I had found that he had in fact been hard at work helping his sister and mother, along with Alfred and Leslie. Rather than collectively working on breakfast, they had created an assembly line for cupcakes, cookies and treats, the quantity of which encompassed nearly every inch of counter space. When Mattie had spotted me, she smirked while adding the final touch on a sugar cookie ghost.

"Interesting breakfast," I had commented.

She had been quick to reply, "We already ate… this is for the Clinic."

Alfred, who had just taken a fresh tray of chocolate cupcakes out of one of the ovens, had promptly turned towards me, "Master Bruce, may I prepare you-."

"Coffee's fine." Stepping into the kitchen, I had inspected Nathan's work as he carefully decorated frosted cookies with bits of candy, bringing ghosts, witches and pumpkins to life. "You didn't tell me there were cookies, I would have gotten out of bed quicker."

Nathan had grinned up at me, a smudge of orange frosting on his upper lip, "You didn't ask."

Out of the corner of my eye, I had spotted Alfred quickly reheating the remnants of breakfast with Leslie quietly talking to him. It had been bad enough when it was just him that I had to battle with, but with Leslie at his side, Alfred was unstoppable.

Selina had then caught my attention next, stepping back from her post frosting cupcakes, "I have to wait for the next batch to cool… You have everything under control?" When Mattie had nodded, Selina continued, "Good… I'm going to go finish my coffee with Dad."

Shortly after I had followed my wife to the nook, Alfred joined us briefly to situate a plate and coffee mug before me, along with a steaming carafe to top off Selina's cup. When he had left, I appraised the colorful plate before me with an uneasy smile. Selina, who had chosen to sit across from me, leaned forward to explain. Pointing to the dark muffin that had a toy hand sticking out of it's crumbly top, she had said, "Buried Alive chocolate pecan muffin."

"Ah."

Selina had then picked up the piece of bread cut out in the shape of a hand, "The Thing toast." The over easy eggs were self explanatory with lines of ketchup and sliced black olive making them appear as bloodshot eyes, leaving her to point at the small dish of yogurt with two wedges of apples and rows of powdered sugar coated raisins, "It's a mouth."

"So I see."

As I began to dissect the eggs, she had commented, "Nate brought home a Halloween activity packet from school yesterday, had some festive meal and snack ideas. Mattie agreed to help him try them out."

I had expected her to have joined me for the sake of conversation but I had cleared half of my plate before realizing she hadn't said much of anything. After wiping my mouth, I had intended to ask what the schedule was for the day but she had beat me to it, "So, we have plans for tonight."

"Plans?" I had asked before removing the doll hand out of the muffin.

"Well, Nathan's going to Tyler's house for the party and he wants to stay-."

I had cut her off, "I thought we were picking him up at nine-thirty when we dropped Mattie off at Kat's?"

She had promptly kicked my right shin under the table and upon receiving my undivided attention, Selina had reiterated, "Nate wants to spend the night."

Mattie had been around her brother's age when the sleepover craze had begun. Being the second child I had raised from birth, I had expected the notion of him sleeping over to have been easier to endure but I had found my mind already spinning. As a slight distraction, Selina had said, "I already talked to him this morning. If he changes his mind and wants to come home, all he has to do is call."

Before I could interject once more, she had proceeded, "And we're dropping Mattie off after him so that we can socialize with the other-."

"Socialize?"

"Yes, Bruce. Spending time away from home with your peers. Socialize." When I had managed to not interrupt her again, she had said, "Kat's parents are having a little thing for everyone's parents, I told her we would stay for a while."

After a moment of silence, I had growled, "I'm not wearing a costume."

"Why not? I was thinking about pulling out the purple leather," her grin had been devious.

Selina had proceeded to chart out her day up until three in the afternoon. Once the baking and decorating had been finished, she and Nathan were going to follow Leslie and Alfred into the city in order to help transport the treats, leaving Mattie to get ready for when Tim and Cass picked her up to go shopping. While my daughter was out on the town, my wife and son were going to the Halloween activity party at the museum and although she could have easily predicted my response, she had still offered for me to join them. I had countered that Lucius planned on coming up to meet with me and that I needed to prepare for that.

"That's fine… and then when I get back, we can do something quick for dinner, have the kids get in costume and then we can head out by seven, back by nine and then the house is all ours."

My brow had jumped on its own, as had my Adam's apple.

She had risen to her feet, kissing my cheek before leaving the nook, "Alfred and Leslie are staying in the city tonight after the party at the Clinic. Be afraid, be very afraid."

Alone, I had stared down at the half eaten face before me, thinking that he was arguably having a better Halloween than I was.

Rather than waste time offering to help knowing I would only to be shut down, I had proceeded to the study, pleased that Ace had opted to join me from his post at the kitchen door. With abundant fund raising, we had already broken ground on buying up vacant lots and condemned buildings in order to start renovations with dozens of contracted teams. Through a hiring service, I had demanded that skilled citizens looking for employment be tapped before bringing in those already receiving bi-weekly paychecks. At last count, the project had over three hundred workers, more than seventy percent of which actually lived in the East End.

Given that the holiday season was quickly approaching, I had wanted to arrange for an event in the East End that would carry out from Thanksgiving to Christmas. Although the Wayne Foundation had scores of people who did nothing but plan events, I had remained determined to be a part of the process. The purpose of Lucius' visit that afternoon was to rehash a meeting I had missed earlier in the week, one discussing the various aspects of the month long, holiday event. As my proxy, he had attended to present what I had in mind and to take note of what was feasible given the funding, time and resources available. One of my main requirements be that no one slept on the streets by the close of the year, that everyone had their fill on Thanksgiving and that no child found themselves without a gift to open. In addition, I had desired to bring crime rates down as low as possible for thirty days with the aide of police patrols and good citizenship.

When I had presented my list to Lucius at the beginning of the week, he had sighed, "Ambitious, aren't we?"

"Someone has to be."

Hidden in the study, I had alternated catching up on information Barbara had been keeping for me on the actual progress in the eastern borough along with activity logs from patrols. Crime was seemingly stagnant as opposed to the vacuum left by the Joker filling with the undesirable. Batman was also ambitious.

I had vaguely recalled Selina and Nathan coming to bid me goodbye for the day, followed shortly by Mattie. By the time eleven-thirty arrived, I had decided to venture back to the kitchen, both for more coffee and to let Ace out. I had smirked upon the discovery of a small plate of sugar cookies left on the island counter, shaking my head to see they were black frosted bats with beady red eyes and white fangs. There had also been a small note in my daughter's round handwriting: _Eat something besides these for lunch, Dad._

Lucius had arrived shortly after, prompting me to unlock the gates and put Ace up, at least until my old friend had made it into the house. Even after numerous visits to the manor, the dog had still yet to accept Lucius, who often had joked that it was because of the scent of his wife's Pomeranian. On one occasion, Lucius had suggested that he should bring the little dog over for Ace to destroy once and for all.

"Damn thing is an orange puffball of evil."

Although we had made the attempt to work diligently, shop talk had quickly given way to personal topics. He had been concerned for my well being, assuring me that he was more than able to run things until I was truly ready to come back. At one point, he had removed his glasses to wipe them, only to stare at me dead on, "I've held the fort down for you before when you've been down and out… you know I would do it again."

His frank admittance that he knew of my former life as a vigilante had come as a surprise earlier in the year, although it shouldn't have. Lucius Fox was a brilliant man with an eye for details, those that many ignored. Much like Jim Gordon, he had spent enough time at my side to know who the real Bruce Wayne was and not the one the tabloids had cherished.

When Mattie had showed up, I had just finished rehashing the extent of my physical progress to Lucius, explaining the reason behind not agreeing to further surgeries to my leg. Her presence had instantly lightened the room, encouraging us to call it a day. After thirty minutes of chatting with her in the study and trying not to interrogate her about the approaching party, Selina and Nathan had returned. With them, they had brought home Chinese takeout, to which Mattie had joked that she already had sushi for lunch. We had opted to eat in the nook as opposed to the dining room and after being prompted by my daughter, I had read aloud fortune cookie slips in Chinese.

Selina had laughed when mine had been, "The night life is for you."

After dinner, my son had transformed himself into Buzz Lightyear, prompting him to "fly" up and down the corridor of the third floor, quoting one of his many favorite movies. My daughter had adorned a pirate costume that had not even vaguely resembled the one she had worn to school the day before. I had made the attempt to protest but neither wife nor daughter seemed to care.

First stop had been to Nathan's classmate's house, of which had already been overrun by six-year-old's on a sugar frenzy. I couldn't have suppressed the flashback to Mattie's birthday party when she had turned six, even if I had wanted to. From there, we had made the three mile trek into the town proper of Bristol, Selina offering to drop Mattie and myself off before parking up the block. I had declined but Mattie had leapt from the car without hesitating.

We had ended up across the street and four houses up. Seeing how it was a somewhat public event, I had brought the cane but when I had tempted leaving it in the car, Selina had grabbed it for me. As we had walked, I looked to Selina and commented that she had never traded her pantsuit for the catsuit. She had stopped us at the end of the driveway, contemplating before untucking my shirt and musing my hair.

"Excuse me?" I had asked.

With her blouse already low cut, Selina had still made the effort to expose more cleavage by adjusting her bra and pulling the shirt down. She had taken to channeling one of the actresses in the WE company sexual harassment videos, tussling her wavy hair and quickly reapplying lipstick she had found in her purse. Reaching the front door, she had pressed the doorbell and said, "Just do as I say."

Entering the house, we had been greeted and applauded by the hostess, a red haired woman who was dressed as a naughty nurse. She had introduced us to the other parents, all wearing extravagant costumes and were several drinks ahead of us. Even as we were commended on our great costumes, I had still been clueless as to who we were. As suggested by Selina, I had frowned and repeated whatever line she whispered into my ear, earning applause and laughter. Some of the others parents had taken dozens of photographs and promised not to "tag" me in them.

When it finally sank in as to who my impromptu identity was, a new arrival to the party had laughed directly in my face, "Look, it's Dr. House!"

^V^

Given the fact that Bruce was more than capable of using his cane to dismember and render unconscious any of the inebriated parents at the party, I agreed to leave by nine-thirty.

It had actually been more fun than I had anticipated, spending a few hours out of the house and out of our element. Although our schedules were hectic, Bruce and I had always made an effort to stay active in the school community. I didn't exactly have any friends amongst the other parents, but they still made for very enjoyable and entertaining company. Naturally, Bruce had never left my side save for when I had gone to the bathroom and to secretly peek in on the kids' party in the finished basement. Both times I had found Bruce surrounded by divorcees upon returning, an anguished look fighting the charming smile on his face.

Seeing that he wasn't having nearly as much fun as I had been, I relented, kissing his cheek before asking, "Ready to go?"

"Stat," he had growled into my ear.

After bidding farewell to our hostess and the others, Bruce showed interest in checking in on Mattie. I told him that it was already taken care of and he was quick to ask, "Well?"

"She was fine, they were doing the Time Warp while watching Rocky Horror."

"Fantastic," he grumbled as we made it to the front door.

On our way to the car, I tried to lighten the mood, "We should have stayed longer… we were in the running for best couple's costume." When he glared at me, I responded with, "Oh, simmer down, House."

He stepped around to the passenger's side and sighed, "Sorry, I would, but I seem to have forgotten my vicodin."

"You have seen the show… liar," I smirked while climbing in.

"Everybody lies," he countered. Once he was in his seat, Bruce then added, "I've only seen the seasons Tim brought me while I was on bed rest… The show is just a modern, medical recreation of Sherlock Holmes."

Buckling in, I looked over at him, "Is that so?"

"House and Wilson, Holmes and Watson," he began to explain as we pulled onto the street, "Holmes and House both have impeccable deductive reasoning abilities, both have drug dependencies although for Holmes it was cocaine… both are listless when not working a case, both are musically inclined and extremely arrogant."

Smiling at him, I asked, "And you didn't like the show?"

He cleared his throat, a cover as he fought back a lip twitch, "The parallels made it remotely worthwhile."

"Remotely?"

A moment passed then he added, "That and some of the cases were mildly interesting."

"Mildly?"

There was another pause before he deduced, "You're mocking me."

"Mock you? I love you," I offered warmly, reaching over to pat his thigh.

He returned to silence, alternating between looking straight ahead and out the passenger window. I asked him if he had any missed calls from Nathan and after diligently checking, he had replied quietly, "Nope."

"No news is good news."

"Unless he and his cohorts have taken hostages." I glared at him until he defended his stance, "You don't know what they're capable of at that age, not in a pack that large... Ask Tim… Ask Clark."

I reached over and patted his thigh again, "Sorry, I didn't mean to bring up bad memories."

After we turned onto our drive, I activated the remote to unlock the gates while he tapped the touch screen of his cell. When he caught me watching, Bruce explained, "Just texting Mattie… making sure she's responsive."

Taking the phone away from him in one swift move, I tucked it away in my purse, "She's fine. Nathan's fine. You on the other hand… you need to shave."

We made it to the service entrance just before ten. As I stayed downstairs to let Ace out one last time, Bruce said he was going to check in with Barbara downstairs. When I said I wasn't kidding about him shaving, he offered a weak promise of, "Later."

Every once in a while, he neglected the most basic of male upkeep and I wasn't sure if it was out of boredom or to recreate the days when he literally had not a single minute to spare for the task. His daily stubble was something I had long since learned to love, but a an actual beard was out of the question.

Waiting for Ace to ring the small bell on the door with his nose, I retrieved Bruce's cell phone and smiled to see he had not sent the message he had written to Mattie. I knew it was hard for him to accept that she was growing up, especially since I was practically embracing it. Over the last few months, the only sign of him coming to terms with it was when he commented that her training to become a vigilante would keep her too busy for boys.

"Boy," I had corrected him, "She only has one boy."

Leaving his cell on the counter, I pulled out my own, dialing Barbara's private line in her magical lair of technology. She answered on the third ring, "There are pictures tagging Bruce as Dr. House on Facebook and you as Dr. Cuddy… care to explain."

I did, recounting the surprisingly enjoyable evening we had spent with people our own age. She promised to forward the better of the pictures to my e-mail, of which I fully intended on printing and framing. I couldn't remember the last time we had a nice candid shot taken of us…

"Here, I'll mark my favorite one. Bruce is almost smiling… you guys actually look really cute."

"That was what I was aiming for," I joked before explaining that the costumes had been purely spur of the moment. I then added, "I think he would have had more fun staying home and watching re-runs."

"He's not the social butterfly he once was."

"Here lies the fop, may he rest in peace and everlasting champagne flute mishaps," I chided back. Although I hadn't heard the service door open, I was suddenly aware of Ace's footfalls hitting the tiled floor, followed quickly by him lapping from his porcelain water bowl. Without looking, I listened as Bruce approached, waiting to speak until I felt his hands on my hips and his lips on my neck, "So how are Jim and Mo?"

"Good, great actually. Seemed to have a fun time. We made it to the tail end of the Roberson Museum thing, but we didn't see you guys."

"No, Nate and I left once he zoomed through all of the activities," I replied evenly as Bruce pulled my back against his chest, his hands snaking around my waist, "But I'm sure the little ones loved it."

"Oh definitely," Barbara responded, "I'll send those pictures to you, too… Everyone loved the candy corn costume, about every other mom there was jealous that I had found one. After a while, I had to suck it up and give Dick the credit."

Bruce whispered into my ear, "Let's go."

Ignoring him, even as he started to unbutton my blouse, I said, "Well, we do have to be nice to our husbands every once in a while… Speaking of which, I think Bruce and I are going to call it a night. I don't remember Halloween being so exhausting."

"Blame the kids… and the sugar crash… Well, we'll see you tomorrow for Nathan's football game. Meeting at the house at what, noon?"

After confirming, we said our good-byes and I hung up in order to turn and yell at Bruce. As expected, he was ready to catch me off guard by picking me up by the hips and setting me on the counter. When he dove in to kiss me, I promptly smacked him in the forehead with my cell phone, "No."

"What do you mean, _No_?" he looked up at me, both with confusion and need.

"We only get to do this every five days, Bruce. I'm not wasting one, especially this one, on the kitchen counter."

A detrimental side effect to the Phenobarbital, especially at the dose Bruce needed to deter seizures, left him riddled with fatigue and his once bottomless libido completely depleted. For the first few weeks on Tegretol, it hadn't been an issue, but as the dosages went up, his sex drive had plummeted. Even though he found himself unable to be satisfied in the usual sense, he had been willing to see that my needs were fulfilled. It had only been made worse when he moved to the more potent barbiturate, completely wiping out any energy he had at all after his physical training and partial days at work. For most of the month of September, he had been listless and uninterested in anything remotely intimate. I had found him more often than not already fast asleep when I made it to bed, seemingly oblivious to any attempt made to wake him. I had tried to broach the subject with him numerous times but his response had always been to the effect that when he had a set routine, he would look into possible treatments.

Having undergone a hysterectomy after Nathan had been born, I had been battling to maintain my femininity for the better part of six years. Hormones, exercise and a proper diet had done wonders but the loving attention Bruce had always given me had been the true cure. Soft kisses and getting to sit next to him on the couch during movie time with the kids got to be old real quick. Being a detective at heart, I knew Bruce had seen it, but I had been concerned when he didn't take action.

That was until one late September evening when he had been down in the Cave watching Mattie practice throwing batarangs and bolos at dummies in the training bay. Coming home late from the Preserve, I was frustrated and had pent up energy after a long day of driving and sitting at my desk. I had found that my son was already tucked into bed and that instead of waiting for me in our room, Bruce had been playing downstairs. When my daughter had gone up to shower and change for bed, I had blatantly told Bruce that he was more than welcome to stay in the Cave that night.

Twenty minutes later, I had been in the shower, trying to relax as the stereo played too loud in the next room. When I had heard Bruce enter the bathroom, I had expected him to produce some sort of apology. What I hadn't expected was for him to strip, step into the shower and pin me against the tiled wall without saying a word. I had tried to fight him off, angry at him for not being available and at myself for not being more patient. While I had been yelling at him and telling him to leave me alone, I had stopped mid-sentence, looked down at him first in confusion and then in wonderment. I had then practically jumped into his arms, wrapping my legs around his waist. We had literally fallen out of the shower, landing hard on the terrycloth bathmat. It had been the first time I had him inside me since our anniversary and I had found myself crying when I climaxed.

From there, every five to seven days, Bruce treated himself to an injection comprised of Prostaglandin, Phentolamine and Papaverine. After one particularly rigorous coupling in the middle of October, one that had left me soaked and panting, I had finally asked him how he had concocted the formula. He had responded that it had already existed, leaving him to slightly modify it to coincide with his metabolism and current score of medications.

"Why the hell did it take you so long to start using it?" I had asked between gasps, "If it's just an injection… obviously doesn't have any ill effect…"

"It's not the injection itself," Bruce had sighed, "It's where I have to inject it."

It had taken a moment to sink in before I had looked over at him in the bed, "Ouch."

He had assured me, "It's a thirty gauge needle… only a little ouch. More mentally painful than physically."

No pain, no gain…

Looking into his eyes, I hopped off of the counter and said, "Upstairs."

He sighed and stepped away, following me while grumbling. When I asked for him to repeat himself, Bruce had offered his customary, "Nothing, dear."

After riding up in the elevator, and fighting him off again, we made our way down the corridor and passed empty bedrooms for the first time in far too long. While I took a moment to undress and put away my jewelry, Bruce stepped into the bathroom alone for a moment. By the time he emerged, I was already sitting on the bed, plugging my cell into its charger. He nodded to Kitten as he slept peacefully on the foot of the bed and when I asked him what, Bruce explained, "No children. Human or feline."

I sighed before picking the little guy up and transferring him to the sofa by the bay windows, "Daddy says he only wants one cat in the bed tonight."

Crossing back towards Bruce, I smirked to see he had gone through the motion of removing his shirt, slacks and socks, taking a tentative seat on the bed in his boxer briefs. It would take fifteen minutes for the full effect to kick in, most of which we often spent teasing one another to unheard of brinks. Without warning, I climbed on top of him, pushing him down on to the covers while settling my knees on either side of his hips. As my lips took hold of his, he held a hand up, motioning me to wait.

Hovering above him, I watched as he removed his hearing aides and when I looked at him with intrigue, he said, "I'm already deaf, don't need you to make it worse."

"Are you saying I'm loud?" I grinned.

"Not usually," he smirked back up at me, pausing to lean forward and kiss my lips, "But you're going to be tonight."

As always, he was right. I wasn't sure if it was the fact that we were home alone or if it was just being so intimate with him and not having a legitimate care in the world. Whatever it was, I had completely allowed myself to be free, letting my body respond in whatever way it wanted to his touch. Somewhere, deep down, I felt bad for the couples we had spent time with earlier. So many others lost the magic after spending so many years together. For Bruce and I, we had wasted so many years apart that I knew that we would never allow the fire to burn out, at least not without a fight.

Waking the next morning, I was surprised to find his eyes already open, staring down at me. At some point in the night, I had moved to lay against him, my arm over his chest and my head settled on his pillow. I lifted a hand and caressed his rough cheek before plucking several hairs from his chin.

He jerked and grumbled, "I know, I know. Today."

I ripped a few more out with a smile on my lips.

"Or... Right now," he corrected himself, slipping his arm out from underneath me before pushing to sit upright. As he slid his feet to the floor, I gasped at the sight of his back and he was quick to ask, "What?"

Biting my lip, I then said, "Nothing."

"What?" he asked again, reaching around to touch his shoulders.

Although his flexibility had considerably improved with rehabilitation over the last few months, his fingers were just out of reach of a set of vicious claw marks running down his back. Making matters worse, I spotted what looked like bite wounds on both of his trapeziums. Rising from the bed, I told him I would start the shower if he wanted to call in and check with the kids. With the water running, I appraised my own form in the full length mirror, not surprised to see a few fresh bruises on my hips, thighs and one on my neck.

At least if Mattie returned home with a hickey, her father had no grounds to judge her considering how he spent his Halloween…

^V^

The first of November marked the final game of Master Nathan's premiere season as an offensive player on the Bristol Titans.

Prior to the game, the Family was to gather briefly at the Manor before caravanning to the high school. As with previous events, it was expected that attendees be dressed in navy blue and be prepared for the chilly weather. For the last three games, I had seen to it that portable carafes of hot chocolate, cider and coffee were brought along, as well as disposable cups. A small concession had been available but at four dollars for a Styrofoam cup of hot dishwater was unacceptable.

Following the outcome of the Titans versus the Glendale Giants, a dinner at the Manor was scheduled not only to commemorate the sporting event but also to bid farewell to Mr. Gordon, his fiancée and their daughter. Considering the festive nature of the weekend, there was no better way to close the month than a pleasant, autumn day spent with Family. In previous years, weekly dinners had been far easier to come by, but as the Family expanded and grew older, it was had become a worthy challenge of mine. The last time everyone had been under the same roof had been for Master Bruce and Ms. Selina's anniversary dinner in June.

Having spent all of Saturday preparing for, volunteering at and cleaning up after the Halloween party and blood drive at the Free Clinic, Leslie and I had opted to stay in the city on All Hollow's Eve. Although securing a room for the night whether it be at a hotel or a private residence would have been no problem given Leslie's following, I had opted to utilize the penthouse at Wayne Tower, claiming it needed to quick once over. Rising shortly after five-thirty, I had washed and dressed for the day before comprising a list of groceries. When I prepared for large gatherings, I often had my sous chef at my side for the treks to various markets. Leslie had volunteered to act in Miss Mattie's stead seeing how the young lady had donned her pirate attire for a sleepover party,

Given that the penthouse kitchen was bare, I offered to take Leslie out to breakfast, maneuvering out of Midtown and eventually the city. I exited the St. James Expressway just before Bristol, easily navigating the streets of East River with ease given the early hour. She tried to act surprised when I pulled into the parking lot of the Homespun Eatery, but I had a feeling she had known the second I had departed from the highway. It had always been one of her guilty pleasures, not only for their exquisite breakfast menu but also the vast selection of baked goods and organic cheeses and meats.

By the time we had finished our delicious brioche and eggs to order, the markets in Bristol began opening their doors at eight on the dot. We quickly sought out the items on list, gathering up fresh produce, dairy products and an impressive beef tenderloin. With a bounty of mouths to feed and appetites to sate, it was better to have too much than too little.

We arrived at the Manor to find Ms. Selina sitting alone in the kitchen, skimming a magazine while sipping coffee. She was quick to offer a hand in unloading the dozen paper bags of groceries. When I protested, Leslie said for her to ignore me. Once the counters were full of bounty, Ms. Selina proposed, "I'll help Leslie wrangle all of this… could you put fresh candlesticks in the holders on the dining room table? I think the other ones are about half way gone."

An odd request seeing how it was far simpler than unpacking produce and assorted staples.

"May I remind you that I have served under this household for approaching fifty years... and I have managed to do so while avoiding the predicament of being the butler, alone, in the dining room with the candlestick holder. Until this very moment, that is."

Ms. Selina laughed at that but Leslie only shook her head slightly, "It's too early in the morning for that razor sharp wit, old man."

Stepping into the dimly lit room armed with three new candlesticks, I realized that Ms. Selina also had an early and ambitious morning. In my absence, she had laboriously decorated and dressed the spacious room, adorning the table in an off-white cloth with the individual settings prepared with gold, rust and chocolate colored place mats. A centerpiece drape of similar hues bisected the center of the near ancient table from one end to the other, highlighted with small, colorful squashes and pumpkins. Full dinner and glassware had already been meticulously laid out along with decoratively folded napkins the same color as the white tablecloth.

Returning to the kitchen once the candles were in place, I congratulated her artistic endeavor and added, "I thank you for your assistance, ladies… but I am afraid I must evict you from the kitchen."

"We'll see about that," Leslie smirked.

Ms. Selina then offered, "Well, my work here is done... I'm going to go pick up the kids… Bruce is around here somewhere."

"Very good, madam, I shall see to it that he remains out of trouble."

When she departed, Leslie went about retrieving two a aprons from the pantry, donning Miss Mattie's white one while offering the Kelly green on to me. When I made a second attempt at protesting, she silenced me with, "Alfred, don't start."

After a curt sigh, I proceeded to explain that I intended to prepare appetizers ahead of time given the fact that there would be many guests arriving directly after spending a cold two hours in the bleachers. I assigned her the taste of preparing the crock pot for apple-cheddar sausage meatballs, of which needed to simmer slowly in a Dijon balsamic glaze. In the mean time, I went about preparing slices of pancetta to be crisped in the oven before being dressed with a goat cheese and pear topping. It was a simple enough treat but one I knew would go fast with Master Dick and Tim present, prompting me to make a double batch.

Tasks completed, Leslie asked, "Now what?"

"Now, dessert."

While I mixed ingredients for a ginger spice cake, I delegated the task of measuring and combining preparations for pumpkin pie ice cream. Miss Mattie had acquired an ice cream recipe booklet over the summer from a flea market venture with Leslie and myself. Not a week went by that she had not experimented with one of the two-hundred flavors listed, with a near perfect success rate. Regrettably, no one had been able to stomach the licorice ice cream. She had intended to concoct the pumpkin pie flavor for Thanksgiving, but I decided it was best to attempt it ahead of time.

With the appetizers stored in the refrigerator, the ice cream in the freezer and the cake in the oven, I removed my apron and waited for Leslie to follow suit. "Dreadfully too early to begin preparations for the entrée… perhaps a cup of tea is in order."

"Perhaps it is," she readily agreed.

Over steaming cups of Harney & Sons and leftover muffins from the previous morning, Leslie and I shared a quiet moment in the nook. We recounted the success of not only the Halloween party but also of the blood drive and fund raising efforts. Miraculously enough, the deputy mayor and his wife had stopped by, not in costume, but willing to donate a pint of B negative a piece. More familiar faces had also arrived, including Dr. Bryce's husband, Master Dick and his brother-in-law, all willing to raise a sleeve for a good cause. Mr. Cutting had also made an appearance, his twin girls laughing as their father squirmed while getting a needle inserted into his vein.

Thankfully, there had been only a minute amount of emergencies brought in to the Clinic, allowing Leslie and the dedicated staff to enjoy the festivities. Aside from the vast collection of treats we had delivered, there had been a variety of games and contests, the most medically related being assembling a card board skeleton, blindfolded to add a degree of difficulty. It was wonderful seeing the usually dismal setting brightened with positive energy and it was equally rewarding seeing a long-absent light in Leslie's eyes.

Just as the faintest aroma of warm cake began wafting our way, the service entrance door opened and closed, yielding excited voices. We rose from the table and returned to the kitchen to see Master Nathan wearing a combination of his pajamas and his Halloween costume. He waved at us before racing in to the corridor, calling out for his dog. With less exuberance, Miss Mattie and her mother appeared. Where Ms. Selina had been primed for the day with fresh makeup, a fitted navy blue sweater over a white dress shirt and crisp jeans, her daughter was the near polar opposite. Her makeup from the night before was smudged and her eyeliner had spread to encircle her bright blue eyes in dark. Backpack slung over her shoulder, the young lady sported gray sweat pants, sneakers and a blue down vest over a black hooded sweatshirt.

Although she offered a smile to us both, Miss Mattie departed without a word.

"Someone had a fun night," Leslie commented.

"Too much fun," Ms. Selina added.

When she asked if her husband had made an appearance, I shook my head, checking the cake while replying, "I'm afraid not."

"Like father, like daughter," she sighed before following after her children.

When the cake was out and cooling, I decided to continue holding off on starting the actual dinner, knowing full well that Miss Mattie would be back to true form following the game. With her help, it would be a literal breeze to prepare the bleu cheese and mushroom stuffed beef, roasted butternut squash and cranberry rice pilaf and apple-walnut salads.

In the mean time, Leslie excused herself to shower and dress for the football game, leaving me alone in the kitchen. As I deftly topped the cake with powdered sugar, I found my solitude broken once more, although surprisingly by Master Bruce. He too was dressed for the day in blue sweater, the v-neck revealing a white shirt underneath. I smirked to see he was wearing jeans, just as his wife had been. I was quick to greet him and offer breakfast and coffee but he had declined both, opting to watch me for a moment before inquiring, "Head start?"

"Yes, sir, one can never be too prepared, especially in this Family."

Although he had not asked for it, I prepared a glass of ice water and set it before him as he took a seat at the island counter. He thanked me quietly before asking, "How did it go, yesterday?"

Directing my attention back to dusting the cake, I replied, "Very well, sir. The season of giving has arrived early in Gotham."

"For once," he commented under his breath, "I was going to try and make it down… but Lucius came out to the house for the afternoon and-."

"Sir," I said as I turned to face him, "You have given this city enough blood, I feel."

He smirked at that and was about to say something when the battle cry of the Bristol Titans' most ferocious player echoed in the hall. A moment later, Master Nathan raced by the archway of the kitchen and towards the exit, already garbed in his football padding, helmet and practice attire. A second later, he returned, walking as fast as he could to his father, "Will you come practice with me?"

Master Bruce nodded as he stepped down from the stool carefully, "Of course… but only for a little while, don't want to tire yourself out."

Cake finished and secured under a glass cover, I was amazed to find it was nearly half passed eleven. I quickly retrieved three thermoses and covers from the pantry and then prepared hot beverages for each. Just as I prepared to secure them in a canvas tote, the door opened once more, yielding only Master Dick.

"Oh man, it smells way too good in here…" he commented, his gaze instantly finding the cake on the far counter.

"Don't even think about it, Richard."

He laughed softly before saying, "It was a tight ride up with urban bunch, figured I would hitch a ride with Bruce and Selina so Jim doesn't have to sit on my lap. Unless Tim and Cass were dropping by here first."

I nodded before replying, "I believe Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra were going directly to the event."

"All right… yeah, Babs just dropped me off and was heading over there, try and get good seats. Cold enough out that it shouldn't be a problem…" he paused as Master Bruce and son entered the house. When Master Nathan spotted his older sibling, he collided with him in an abrasive embrace. Dick gasped and knocked on the child's glossy helmet, "You ready?"

Master Nathan beamed up at him, "Bring it!"

"Nate… go get your jersey on, tiger, we're going to have to leave soon. And bring your sweatshirt."

"All right," he started towards the door, stopping briefly to flex his shoulder pad covered arms with a convincing growl of effort.

Master Dick imitated him with perfection, including the narrowed brow and curled lip. When Master Nathan departed, Master Dick continued, "Hey, Bruce."

"Dick."

After a snicker, he commented, "Nice hickey."

Although his son had channeled aggression as a means of play a moment early, the scowl on Master Bruce's face expressed true distaste. A look that Master Dick had become immune to after decades of enduring it. Laughing, he shook his head, "Maybe you should wear a turtleneck to the game… or a scarf."

I waited until Master Bruce left the kitchen before offering, "Perhaps you should ride to the game with Dr. Thompkins and myself."

Not twenty minutes later, the entire Family was situated on the bottom left two rows of the home bleachers, amidst dozens of others bundled up and ready for the penultimate game. The players themselves were equally excited, jumping up and down on the sidelines as their coaches tried to get them to focus. Although it was a childhood sport, they seemed to take it very serious, as did a number of the parents.

Where his sister had opted to spend her younger years playing true football, Master Nathan had become infatuated with the American variety. Since he had been five, he had cherished Sunday and Monday night football games, watching them alongside his father who regrettably held little interest in the sport. Super Bowl Sundays had never been celebrated in Wayne Manor throughout the entire duration of my servitude but the young master had put an end to that.

Although the team did not practice as religiously as the older teams in the league, they still met at the high school bi-weekly to practice and then every week as the competition season approached. It had not been enough for Master Nathan as he found it necessary to practice drills at home, enticing his family members of all ages to play catch with him. On special occasions, he had even donned his blue and white jersey, emblazoned with his last name and the number eight on his back, performing touchdowns against his older siblings whilst the others cheered him on.

Having never gone through the process of watching a young boy compete in the sport, I had been impressed with how very closely the pint-sized players resembled their older counterparts. Not only were the decked in miniaturized protective gear and attire, they closely followed the rules of conduct while performing specific plays. Given his boundless energy, Master Nathan had been a natural offensive player covering both fullback and running back as required by "Coach Ed". The sport was for the sake of encouraging the children to do well academically, develop good teamwork and sportsmanship as opposed to battling for coveted MVP titles.

That had not kept the young master from personally keeping track of how many touchdowns he had made, how many yards he had acquired and how many passes he had received.

Detail oriented, much like his father.

I had always made the attempt to remain reserved, applauded completed plays and good efforts for both teams. Others were had always been more inclined to shout cheers, stomp their feet and shout unintelligibly for touchdowns. Master Dick and Tim were the loudest supporters of Master Nathan, having garnered warnings from referees at past events for verbally hashing their calls.

Thankfully, they had managed to contain themselves for the final game, focusing their energies into getting all of the Titans' supporters to clap and cheer in unison.

_Let's go defense._

_Way to go Titans, way to go._

_Clap your hands, stomp your feet, the Bristol Titans can't be beat._

By the time the blue and white clad youngsters claimed victory over their blue and red counterparts, not only had I joined in, but so had Master Bruce.

^V^

"Trust me."

"I trust you implicitly, you know that, Dick."

"Then what's the big deal?" he asked.

Standing opposite of him in the training bay of the Cave, I sighed before responding, "I don't trust your wife not to kill me."

"She's all the way on the other side of the city dropping the Gordon clan off at the airport, she'll never know."

He was right. After a divine dinner and dessert courtesy of Alfred, we had all moved to the den to recover. Not long after, Ethan had fallen asleep with his head in his not-grandmother's lap. Barbara had taken the window of opportunity to head out in order to drop Jim, Maureen and Sarah off at the airport. She had left Dick behind to watch over Ethan and had also left behind their son's car seat. Whenever Dick felt it was worth risking moving the child, he could borrow a car from Bruce and make the drive back into the city.

The rest of the Family had seemed equally spent after the long day. Nathan, who had been a nonstop ball of energy all afternoon, had also fallen asleep on the couch, although with his head in his father's lap. Although I had offered to carry him upstairs, Bruce had declined, saying he needed to go up to take his meds anyway. I had a feeling that he would not make a return trip to the ground floor, so I made sure to shake his hand and bid him a good night.

With Leslie and Alfred in the kitchen, refusing assistance of any form, it had left myself, Cassandra, Selina, Dick and Mattie as the remaining conscious individuals. I had made the attempt at being sociable for another thirty minutes before taking my leave to the Cave, Cass and Mattie at my heels. Since she had school in the morning, Mattie was cut off from the Cave at promptly nine-thirty, giving us only two hours to work that night.

Given that we all were recovering from dinner, it had ended up being more mental than physical stimulation. I had Mattie work in the computer bay, studying brief flashes of crime scene photos and quizzing her on what would be the worthwhile evidence to take. It had taken her a few tries before she finally gotten the hang of it, learning to focus on mental pictures for recall purposes rather than trying to formulate a list of items of interest.

When we were done for the night, I had reminded her that, "You never know how long you have with a crime scene. You can have a victim pop up, a suspect come out of now where… or even worse, have the cops show up."

She had smirked at that, "Good thing it's not really like it used to be… with the cops out to get you."

"Yeah," I had agreed with her, "Hard enough getting shot at by bad guys let alone by them and the bad guys."

Upon sending her upstairs, Cass and I had taken to the training bay in order to limber up and get our blood pumping. I had been just about to take her down while sparring when I heard someone call out, "Watch your back!"

The fraction of the second I had allowed myself to be distracted gave Cass more than enough time to knock me to the mats, face first.

Climbing to my feet, I had looked to see Dick approaching, "Sorry, bro. Couldn't resist."

Flexing my shoulders, I had asked, "Sure you couldn't… Are you leaving?"

Dick had shaken his head, "Actually, I was wondering if you'd hold a punch bag for me."

"Seriously?" I had responded.

"Or… you could be the punch bag, whichever works for me."

Although I had danced around actually engaging in physical activity with him, he had eventually used his charm to convince me otherwise. He, much like Bruce, had been determined to get things on track and had been dedicated to rehabilitating himself after the Joker. His arm had been out of the sling for months but he had always seemed to favor it, even after bringing back most of his muscle tone.

But as he walloped the punch bag, I had decided that maybe it was just a cover.

"Not bad," I remarked, letting go of the five hundred pound bag.

Dick wiped sweat from his brow, "The bag at the Clocktower is lighter than this one… that and I don't have anyone to back it up for my right hook of pain."

"Naming our punches, are we?" I quipped.

He grinned before throwing his right fist at my face, stopping it short as I went to block it, "See, right hook of pain."

"So I see…" I smiled back before looking for Cass. When I saw the light in the costume vault was on, I realized it must have been about that time.

Dick looked up as well, sighing before commenting, "Well, I best go get the little guy and head home… that is if I can steal him away from his Grandma."

"Not-grandma," I corrected him.

He laughed softly, "It's okay to say it down here out of her hearing range… Especially if I have backup."

"I'm sorry, man," I put a hand on his right shoulder, "But if she comes after you… you're on your own."

After a moment of contemplation, Dick said, "Pussy," before turning and heading to the stairs.

I was still smirking by the time I made it to the costume vault and when Cass asked why, I simply shook my head, "I don't know. Guess I just miss have him around."

"He's been around… just not like this."

She finished suiting up before me but rather than taking off on her own or waiting for me by the Mobile, I found her sitting on her idle cycle. Occasionally, she would ride down with me but since Dick had been out of commission and Huntress had been murdered, it had been difficult to rely only one mode of transportation between the two of us. I gave her the ladies first gesture through the windshield and she pulled her helmet on before hitting the ignition.

Unintentionally, although only at first, we ended up racing each other into the city, she winning by a small margin. Technically, she beat me only because she had cheated, racing down the shoulder for nearly four miles, leaving me to dodge in and out of traffic. When she crossed into the city limits, her voice came over the comm. link for just a second, "One-zero."

After she promptly cut the connection, I smirked before growling quietly, "Game on."

For an hour straight, we toured the city individually, contacting each other only to report additional scores. It was a game Dick and I had played years earlier, one Cass had taken to given her competitiveness. I couldn't remember the last time we had played and it brought a new energy out in me, something I hadn't felt in a while. And it was certainly refreshing after dealing with an endless parade of young miscreants celebrating Halloween the night before.

By eleven, I was down by three points.

When I contacted her to report an apprehension of dealer who was foolishly behind a rehab clinic, I added, "Going to drop in on Kelsey, Wayne Tower in an hour?"

"Yes, oh and it's twenty-three to twenty, not twenty-two.."

Click.

As long as her office light was on, felt obligated to check in with the commissioner. Having been tooling around Tri-Corner for the last thirty minutes, I found myself automatically being drawn to police headquarters. Things had been going smoothly since the Joker's apprehension and I had no intentions of letting my hard work go to waste. It wasn't exactly the relationship that Bruce had once had with Jim Gordon, but I felt it was the closest I was going to get.

Although it still didn't keep me from sneaking into her office when she went to refill her coffee.

When she returned, I waited for her to set her mug and take a seat at her desk before clearing my throat.

Kelsey did a remarkable job concealing the jerk of surprise and was quick to glare at me as I stood in the corner of her office, "Seriously?"

I remained silent, but made a peace offering by stepping forward.

She moved a manila file towards me, "That lieutenant from the Blue Flu gang was released on bail this afternoon… something about circumstantial evidence and his being an upstanding, remodeled former felon. Complete bullshit."

Although I took the file, I opted not to waste time looking at it. Desmond Reyes was already on my list for the night, the commissioner's mentioning of it made it a priority. The Blue Flu gang had been active for nearly forty years but never made it to the top. Any time they garnered enough members, funding and ambition, they would try to rise up against their larger rivals, namely the Crips. More often than not, there would be far more Blue Flus in the morgue than in holding after their feuds.

That was until they had started in arms transportation, putting a seemingly endless supply of weapons into young hands. A police raid on one of their hideouts had lead to a dozen arrests, some unclaimed funds and drug paraphernalia but no merchandise. The lower rung guys were worthless with public legal aide would eventually crack but the two higher ups apprehended apparently had no problem walking out of jail.

"I'll pay him a visit."

She smirked as she sat back in her chair, "Why do I have a feeling that he's going to turn himself in after said visit."

"Because I can be very persuasive."

The address listed on the paperwork Kelsey had given me was Desmond's mailing address, I knew it was actually his mother's house. It would have been a safe place for him to hide, but being a good Catholic, he would have never endangered the life of his seventy-one year old mother. Instead, I found him a mile away in the Bowery, playing cards with three other gang members in a cheap apartment on the twenty-first floor.

I let Desmond win a few hands before crashing through the window.

Thankfully, there had only been one overhead light which popped the second a batarang touched it. In less than five seconds, I disabled the three others in the room with fast, powerful blows to the head and throat, letting them fall to the ground. Stepping over their moaning bodies, I followed Desmond into the adjoining room where he was feverishly loading a Glock.

Launching myself head first into his abdomen, I slammed him into the counter hard enough to break through the cracked Formica and wooden cabinets. With the gun and its clip flying out of his hands, I grabbed him by his shirt and ripped him out of the debris. I then proceeded to launch him into the refrigerator face first, the sick sound of his body thudding bringing a smirk to my lips.

Then something flashed before my eyes.

Bobo, beating him senseless, beating him into an intensive care bed…

Not allowing myself the distraction a second longer, I grabbed Desmond by the foot and proceeded to drag him over the stained linoleum, back into the living room wear his cohorts were still motionless. Instead of leaving him at their sides, I continued to the window I had entered in, my booth heels crunching on broken glass. Taking a firm hold of his sweatshirt, I lifted him up and forced him out the window. Through bloody lips, he began to plead to me, but it didn't stop me from letting him go.

I waited exactly two seconds before diving after him, firing a grapple, latching on to his leg just before the line went taught. Safe in my grasp, for the time being, Desmond Reyes had been able to watch twenty and a half floors race by. Had he not been flailing around, he could have easily reached out at touched the cold pavement.

Retracting up to the roof, I threw him down hard before crouching over him.

"I want you to listen to me… and I'm not going to repeat myself."

He was soaked in a cold sweat, lips quaking in fear and his brown irises hidden behind fully dilated pupils.

I had his undivided attention.

"You're lawyer isn't here. Your gang isn't here. It's just you and me. And thirty stories between us… and the sidewalk."

He wet himself.

"You are going directly to Gotham City Police Headquarters, on your own accord. You are going to turn yourself in. You are going to tell the detectives anything they want to know. You are going to go to prison."

"But-."

I moved in closer, my eyes hovering in front of his, "I wasn't finished." When he decided silence was best for his immediate future, I proceeded, "You are going to pay for what you've done. You can either serve time behind bars," I looked to the edge of the roof for a second before concluding, "Or you can serve it with me."

"I can't, the boss will-."

After falling to his near death a second time, Desmond had a change of heart. I followed him in the Mobile as he took a cab straight to GCPD. With Barbara accessing the security camera and forwarding it to me, I watched as he was booked and put in a separate jail cell in holding. I was trying to figure out if he was worth one point or possibly more when Cass contacted me on the link, "Sixty-two."

"That's impossible."

"No. It's improbable."

Click.

She signed off and headed home just after two in the morning, exhausted after encountering and apprehended eighty criminals. I asked her what she wanted for a prize and she said she was calling in sick to work the next day.

Fair enough.

I headed out of the city just before four, pleased to hear that Desmond had already asked to speak to the detectives on his case first thing in the morning. Barbara had joked while I drove to Bristol that it was nice to see criminals turning over a new leaf, even if it required some assistance. "Some of those higher ups wouldn't have been so easily intimidated."

"Good thing I was in debate club," I replied evenly.

After a beat, she replied, "Good night, geek."

I breezed through activity logs once I reached the Cave and opted to shower there as to remove one item from my to-do list when I woke in the morning. The walk through the tunnel seemed to take a bit longer than usual but I finally walked into my house just as my watch read five in the morning. Perhaps I would accidentally sleep in and get into work late…

With Robbie upstairs with Cass, I quickly stopped in the kitchen for a bottle of water, of which I promptly paired with a sliver of the cake we had for dessert earlier. Regrettably, we had eaten all of the delicious pumpkin pie ice cream, but Mattie and Alfred promised to have more of it for Thanksgiving. As I ate at the counter, I noticed that Cass had brought the mail in at some point in the day. We were notoriously forgetful about the simple task and often found the mailbox to capacity before remembering to empty it.

I absently sorted through bills, fliers, bank statements and junk mail before finding a plain white enveloped addressed to me in small, cursive writing. No return address but the time stamp was from an Iranian mailing service twelve days earlier. I carefully opened it before finding a white piece of paper with more of the same penmanship.

_Initially I had thought that I needed only him to help me, but I have come to realize that there is nothing he can do, not in his current state. He is burdened, far beyond what I could have imagined, burdened by his poor health and family ties._

_You, on the other hand, wear his mantle with a grace I never expected, a testament to your nature and your training. He would not have bestowed the cowl upon you had he not thought you worthy of upholding all it stands for, namely protecting the innocent._

_I am innocent._

_Protect me._

_T_

^V^


	4. Come What May:  IV

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: Bruce is distracted by home life while Tim investigates without him.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Bruce's incident at the pharmacy is influenced by a scene from That 70's Show… never thought you'd see those two connected, did you? Fight scene in Tim's POV is loosely based on the Hong Kong fight in The Dark Knight.

^V^

"Well?" I asked, having managed to remain silent for fifteen minutes. Although my looming presence mere feet away had probably been just as distracting as incessant talking...

Leslie looked up at me from the microscope in front of her. It was a rare occurrence to see her in the Cave for reasons other than sewing up wounds or setting bones. In a way, she was treating the ill for once and not the infirm.

"Sorry, Bruce, it's strep," she finally answered.

I had been preparing to leave Wayne Enterprises shortly after one that afternoon when the elementary school nurse had called. Nathan had been laying in her office with a mild fever and sore throat since before lunch and she was inquiring if I could pick him up. He had been a bit under the weather that morning, barely finishing breakfast before dragging his feet out the door. Selina and I had both offered to let him stay home from school but he had been adamant about not missing his science class since they were watching a movie about wolves.

On my way to Bristol, I had called Selina to inform her that Nathan had taken a turn for the worse. She also had decided to call it quits for the day and had stared packing up her things to leave. As I passed out of the city limits, I had said, "Leslie was going to be home this afternoon to work with me… I'll have her look at Nate first."

"Okay," she had sighed, "Poor guy."

When I had arrived at the school, I had parked out front in the visitor's lot, opting out of using the handicap space. Cane in hand, I had made my way into the school, asking a hall monitor where the nurse's office was. He had explained it simply enough, but I found myself asking him to repeat it. Although my short term memory was improving, I still had little faith in it.

Finally arriving, I had been surprised to see a number of other children were seeking comfort, many sitting in plastic chairs lined up on the far wall. I had promptly sought out the nurse who had been occupied with putting an adhesive bandage on a young girl's knee. Waiting, I had listened as the older woman reminded the child, "Now, no more skipping down the hall, okay?"

"Yes, Nurse Kolgut."

Once the girl departed, the nurse had looked up at me, "Can I help you?" After explaining who I was, she had nodded, "Nathan's back here." She led the way towards the back of the L-shaped room to a series of cots separated by drapes. The hidden figures within were either coughing or sneezing. She had pulled back the drape on the second to last bed, revealing Nathan laying on his side, his face red but his eyes closed.

"His temp is just over one hundred and he's been popping back cough drops for the last hour," she had stated, "I know school let's out in an hour and a half but I think it's best he go home and rest."

I had taken a seat on the edge of the thin mattress, gently brushing back his damp bangs, "Hey, tiger."

He had opened his eyes, coughed hoarsely and then said, "I missed my movie."

Smiling, I had offered, "I'm sure we can get you a copy of it."

Nurse Kolgut had added, "He said he had only started to feel sick this morning… given how fast this came on, I'd have him tested for strep by your doctor."

"Thank you," I had replied before rising to my feet. Hooking my cane on my arm, I had leaned over to pick Nathan up, letting him rest his chin on my shoulder and smirking when his arms limply snaked around my neck. The nurse had offered to let us use the school wheelchair to get him to the car but I had declined. After a quick stop at his classroom, of which I had only recalled the location of because of open house the month before, I had helped him don his jacket and hat before braving the chilly November air. Not two weeks into the month and it was rarely above freezing, even during the day.

As we had headed out, Nathan moaned in my ear and when I asked him to repeat himself, he had asked if he could still watch the football game that night. His beloved Giants were playing the Cowboys, a game he had been talking about all weekend. I had made no promises save for that if he was still awake, I would watch it with him. We had made it home by two and I had proceeded to carry him inside. Navigating to the elevator, I had taken him directly up to his room to get him settled into clean pajamas. As he had changed, I retrieved cough syrup from the master bathroom and although he fused a bit, I had finally coerced him to take it. After all, the Giants would take their medicine if they were told to.

Once he had been tucked in with Ace sitting at bedside, I had returned to the ground floor in search of Alfred or Leslie, preferably both. I had crossed paths with Leslie first as she started to trek upstairs, "Bruce, I didn't even know you were home."

"I had to bring Nathan home early from school… The nurse said she thinks he has strep."

She had nodded briefly before saying, "I'll get my bag, we can do a quick swab test… That is if you don't mind me stealing your lab downstairs."

"Prefer that to having him sit in the health center."

Nathan had nearly been asleep when we arrived at his room and thankfully he was tired enough not to be too upset by having his throat swabbed. Alfred had also joined us, bearing a dish of orange sorbet to help cool Nathan's throat. He had offered to sit with him while Leslie made a quick trip to the Cave, of which had allowed me to follow her down.

And Strep it was...

Making our way upstairs, Leslie offered, "I'll write him a script for liquid amoxicillin."

"We have it in pill form in the medical bay," I countered.

"He's six, Bruce. Let him enjoy bubble gum flavored medicine while he still can," she paused in order to sign off on the prescription pad in her hand.

After tearing off the piece of paper, she handed it to me, nearly saying something else when we heard Selina call out my name. Making our way down the corridor from the study, I offered, "Over here."

She came into view, still dressed from her long day at the Preserve. Instead of business casual, she had opted for warmth and comfort, wearing flannel lined jeans, insulated hiking boots and a fitted wool sweater beneath a down vest. She still had her purse over her shoulder and she adjusted it as she approached us, "How is he?"

Leslie gave her the bad news and then added, "Ten days on antibiotics and he'll be good as new. Regrettably, it's Monday… he really shouldn't go back to school until Thursday."

Selina sighed as she looked to me, "What does your week look like?"

It was busy seeing how we were finalizing a buyout of two computer programming firms as well as gearing up for the month long holiday efforts in the East End. Instead of saying so, I shrugged, "Nothing they can't do without me."

"You sure? I mean, I could take tomorrow off, but the rest of the week is a mess with all of the field trips we have scheduled."

I stepped forward and kissed her cheek, "It's fine. Don't worry."

Leslie silently excused herself, giving us a moment alone.

Selina sighed again and looked towards the stairs, "Well, I'm going to go up and see him and change… Do you mind running out to get his meds?"

"What?" I asked.

"If not, I can when I go pick Mattie up later."

"From school?" I asked, confused, "What is she doing?"

"She's at Terry's, they're working on their global history presentation." Before I could protest, Selina cut in, "His father is there helping them and supervising them, so don't even start."

After a moment of glaring at her, I relented, "Fine. I'll go."

We headed towards the base of the stairs and paused together once she stood on the bottom step. She opened her purse suddenly and retrieved a pen and a Post-It pad, "Thank you. And get plague supplies, I don't think we have much aside from that one bottle of cough syrup."

"I think I can handle it without a list," I muttered.

"Really, are you going to remember what flavors of cough drops he likes... And that he doesn't like tissue boxes with flowers on them… and that he likes the grape Tylenol and not the cherry?" When I had no reply, she added, "And you might as well get my meds while your there, and yours and Mattie's as well."

"Yes, dear," I grunted when she gave me the piece of paper.

Instead of letting go of it, she tugged it against my grip, able to stare directly into my eyes on her perch. Rather than hit me as I expected her to, she leaned forward and kissed me on the lips, "Watch it."

Without another word, she let go of the note and resumed climbing the stairs. Shaking my head, I about faced and trekked back to the garage, selecting the same Lexus that I had already driven that day. In previous months, I had been wary of driving on the open roads, still not having found the correct dosage to control my seizures. Having been episode free for weeks, I had finally been able to step away from the dependence of others carting me around. Although it was a slight step in the right direction, I had regrettably been limited to driving automatic vehicles instead of the much preferred standards.

My left leg was doing better, but it certainly wasn't flexible enough to work a clutch.

The town proper of Bristol was relatively quiet given the early afternoon hour. Again, when I parked, I did not use the handicap spot in order to leave it for someone who actually needed it. Dick had joked at Halloween that he wanted to borrow my temporary pass so he could get better spots at shopping plazas. I had assured him he was welcome to it, but only after I made it necessary for him to have one.

Double checking that I had the list, my wallet and cane, I stepped out of the car and locked it, nearly shutting the door before realizing I had left the keys in the ignition. A common error amongst others, it would have been a simple enough fix by either calling the house for the spare set in the garage or contacting AAA. It was, however, a common enough error that I still would have hated admitting to. Developing short term memory was far from science and it was something that I feared would never be truly regained.

Stepping inside, I grabbed a small plastic basket before seeking out the cough and cold aisle. I had never been one for shopping, always delegating the task for others. However, since my life had turned at the middle of the year, it was actually rewarding to go out and accomplish something, even as minute as going to the drug store. List in hand, I quickly found the peppermint cough drops, grape liquid Tylenol and Robitussin DM for my son. The next aisle over, I sighed to see a wide variety of tissue boxes and used my best judgment to find the least feminine one.

From there, I navigated to the back where there was a short line at the pharmacy counter. Setting the basket at my feet, I double checked to make sure everything on the list had been accounted for. Pocketing the note, I took out my cell phone to see an amendment had been texted to me from my wife: couple vitamin water c power bottles too.

Craning my neck around, I found a refrigerated display of Vitamin Water bottles towards the front and reminded myself to grab them on the way to the cashier. Looking back, I realized I was next in line and was quick to seek out the prescription from Leslie.

"Mr. Wayne… good to see you," the pharmacist smiled warmly.

I had no recollection of ever meeting the late forty-year-old black man before me and read his name tag in order to fake it, "You, too, Dr. Robinson."

After handing over the piece of paper, he shook his head, "Uh-oh… sick one at home?"

"My youngest boy has Strep."

"That's terrible… although it seems to run rampant right about now." He looked to his assistant, a red haired young woman, "Cheryl, you want to get this taken care of?" She nodded and walked into the pharmacy and out of sight.

"My wife was wondering if the rest of our prescriptions were available… might as well pick them up all at once."

I listed off our names and medications and he stepped away briefly to investigate. Returning a few minutes later, Dr. Robinson offered me a small, white paper bag, "Okay. Here is Nathan's amoxicillin, just make sure it stays refrigerated." He then pushed three more white bags across the counter, "And here is what Dr. Buccalo set aside for the rest of the family."

Out of habit, I looked over the tags on each bag and matched them with the contents, "Do I pay up front?"

"Yep, they'll check you out at the cashier."

I had nearly thanked him before seeing an additional item in Mattie's bag, "Uh, just a second… I think there was a mix-up."

"Oh?"

"My daughter has her asthma medication here but there's also an order of orthotrycyclen."

"Hm…" he cleared his throat and said, "Let me go check quick."

Waiting, I put her bag on the counter and put the others in the basket. He appeared again with a printed piece of paper, "Nope, she's all set. The script was submitted in June and is good until December first."

Shaking my head, I tried to explain, "No, she isn't taking… that. She's only thirteen."

He was starting to look uncomfortable, although it was difficult to tell if it was the form the awkward situation or the firm look that had taken over my face. "I'm sorry, Mr. Wayne… you can see here that it's in her name," he handed over the paper, "… from Dr. Thompkins."

Thanking him curtly, I grabbed the bag and quickly made my way to the front. I impatiently waited as the cashier scanned my items and ignore her as she tried to make small talk. Grabbing the plastic bags and muttering something that might have been appreciative in a different tone, I headed out to the parking lot.

It wasn't until I reached the gates of the manor that I realized two things.

First, I had forgotten to get the drinks.

Second, my daughter was at Terry's house.

^V^

"I hate to say it, but this outdoes the work my grad students did on their midterm presentations," Terry's dad smirked.

After diligently researching in the library and tapping Dr. Miller for his wealth of medieval knowledge, Terry and I were probably capable of passing a college exam. Our social studies teacher, Mrs. Cook, had assign pairs of students a specific topic of the middle ages and required us to not only hand in a research paper and bibliography, but also to prepare a ten minute presentation to the class. She had said that the paper was all business but the presentations could be whatever we desired. Piper and Angie were working on nutrition in the time period, or rather malnutrition, and were going to have a sample meal for the upper class as well as the lower class.

Upon hearing them discuss their plans earlier in the week, I had instantly looked to Terry and growled, "We have to top free food."

Our subject ended up being the mythical beasts of the time and their importance in religion and culture. Terry had been quick to point out that we could show how they were still around today and impacting modern cultures. The research had been a task, learning all we could about the basilisk, phoenix, griffon and the unicorn. We were able to find representations in modern film and stories, particularly in our joint favorite Harry Potter.

Paper completed the week before, we had spent most of the weekend working on display posters, adding the final touches at his house after school on Monday. Scheduled to present on Wednesday, we planned on having all of our materials ready so that we would only have to practice our parts to the presentation. For a competitive edge, we also had burned footage from choice movies depicting our new interests to disc in order to play specific scenes during class. The posters were not only adorned with detailed drawings of the creatures we had studied, but also quick notes on their origin, purpose and impact. Terry's dad had let us take over the living room, covering the large coffee table with markers and printed text. He had checked in on us regularly, amazed at our dedication to the subject since Terry had showed little interest in his profession.

Nearly done, he had come in one final time, applauding our efforts.

I looked up and smirked, "A Plus?"

"A Plus Plus," Dr. Miller replied. "Well, it's nearly five, did you want to stay for dinner, Mattie? I was thinking we could order in some pizza."

Rising to my feet, I shook my head, "No thanks… My mom should actually be here soon."

"All right… Terry let me get my camera before you guys wrap up… these drawings belong on my office wall."

As he left, Terry sat back, nearly done coloring in the fire around the phoenix he had drawn. He was actually very good at pencil drawings, often sketching instead of note taking during class. For Valentine's Day, he had made me a drawing of Coltrane based on the picture I had of my former horse in my locker. It had been nearly exact in detail save for the notation: Coltrane smells, but you don't.

"Whew," he sighed, "This better be an A Plus Plus, my hand is about to fall off."

I sat on the couch behind him, admiring his work, "Well, you're the one who wanted to draw in every scale on the basilisk."

"Yeah yeah…" he paused to look back at me, "Sure you don't want to stay? I was going to con Dad into getting Buffalo chicken pizza."

"Mmm, chicken wings and pizza in one bite," I smiled dreamily. After he snickered at me, I continued, "Let me call my mom quick, see if she left already."

He nodded, "Cool, I'll finish this, let Dad play photographer then we can put them in the plastic sleeves."

Standing, I stepped into the hall briefly, retrieving my cell phone from my pocket and quickly dialing my mother's. After two rings, she answered with a curt, "I'm sorry, I'm on my way."

The tone of her voice instantly put me on edge, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing… just… I'm just leaving here. Be about fifteen minutes."

"Mom?"

"Nothing… just your father-."

I felt my heart leap into my throat, "What happened?"

"He's fine. At least until I kill him, he'll be fine. Listen, I'll be there soon. Okay?"

She had tried to control her voice but it failed miserably. Instead of pushing the matter, I agreed, "Okay, see you soon."

Hanging up, I turned around to see Terry standing behind me, worry plastered on his face, "Is something wrong?"

I shook my head, "No."

"Sorry, I just… you were talking loud and… are you sure?"

Nodding, I replied, stepping by him and into the den, "Yeah, it's fine. Mom's on her way so I guess I'll have to have pizza some other time."

Terry still looked concerned but he offered, "I'll bring you a slice for lunch tomorrow."

That brought a smile to my lips, "Really?"

"Of course… well, that is if I don't eat the whole thing tonight," patting his flat stomach, he added, "Growing boy."

I stepped forward and kissed him on the cheek, "You're the best."

"I keep telling you that, about time you listened."

As we began picking up the markers and scraps of paper, Dr. Miller returned with his Nikon. He proceeded to set the posters up one at a time on the mantle, snapping several pictures before saying, "The plastic sleeves are in my office, it's not Mona Lisa's bullet proof glass but at least it will keep them from smudging."

"Thanks, Dad."

He looked at his son, "I meant it earlier, these are amazing. Don't let your teacher take them, make sure you keep them."

"Dad…" Terry sighed in mild embarrassment.

"All right, all right… I'll go get the sleeves." He admired the posters once more before leaving down the corridor.

"I bet he's going to go upload them to his Macbook and put them on his university profile page," Terry snickered, "Such a dweeb."

I nearly said that it was better to have a dweeby dad than no dad at all, but I held my tongue. It had been seven years since Terry had lost his mother and it still remained a sore subject. He had only talked about it a handful of times to me, mostly after he had found out that she had been murdered. I had told him once that he should talk to my dad about it, or even Dick, but he had declined, "Men don't show weaknesses to other men."

"You are a boy."

"I," he had pounded his chest, "I am man."

He was the best.

While he carried the basket of markers, I took the scraps to the kitchen and threw them away. I then followed him upstairs in order to retrieve my book bag and coat. Finding him bent over at the waist, I noted he was carefully arranging the writing utensils in cups on a shelf, separating them by size. Not one to let an opportunity pass by, I quietly pulled a soccer ball out from under his desk and lofted it.

He yelped when it hit him in the behind, spinning around and declaring, "No playing ball in the house!"

I laughed at that and said, "OCD much?"

"Shut up…" he went back to work, "There are like five different tips for these markers, it's nice to be able to grab for the one you want and not get a fat Crayola."

I plopped onto his bed and asked, "You going to your grandma's for Thanksgiving?"

Terry nodded, "Yeah, for the whole vacation. Although it'll be nice to be in Arizona when everyone else is here freezing in Gotham."

Smirking, I countered, "You know you're going to get sunburn, right?"

He glanced to me, "Better than frostbite." After a beat, he asked, "What about you, are guys doing any vacations now that… everyone is okay?"

"I don't know… I kind of want to go to Colorado again, that was fun. Maybe you could come, you know, if we go again?"

"Really?" he asked. Task completed, he joined me on the bed.

I nodded, "Yeah, I'll ask my mom. I mean, I know Dad can't ski anymore, but Nathan and I had a lot of fun last time, and Mom did too." Thinking of how wonderful it had been that week two years earlier, I suddenly felt a cold stone settle in my stomach. My mother had obviously been upset with my father when I called earlier. They had fought once on that trip as well but they had pretended nothing had happened. I never found out what it had been about, but I had all intentions to find out what happened this time.

"Yoo-hoo?"

My concentration yielded as Terry drew my focus back. I shook my head, "Sorry, just thinking."

"We just thought for like… two hours… after thinking all day at school. You are cut off."

I raised my brow at him, "I can't think?"

"Nope. No thinking, just doing."

"Doing what?" I led on.

Since the incident at Jack and Dana's wake, we had been testing the depths of intimacy with one another. I had already told him that there was no way I was going to fall in line with my mindless classmates and had no intention of going all the way. After setting out my ground rules, he had lightened the mood by saying, "Don't worry. If saw your boob once, I'd probably go into catatonia."

I had never been pressured by my peers seeing how I had been blessed with deductive reasoning and the ability to tell right from wrong. My friends loved TV shows documenting teenagers dealing with life and pregnancy where I was disgusted by them. I knew I had been born out of wedlock, but my parents had been adults who were able to afford the time and money to raise a child. I was on the verge of no longer being friends with Piper because all she talked about was how she was going to be on Teen Mom with Marc someday.

Having learned about sex from school and my father's painful birds and the bees talk, I still found myself turning to my mother with questions. There was no way I was going to ever ask my dad about French kissing or what it felt like to be excited or what we could do that would be more than hand holding. Mom hadn't showed hesitation or any sign of discomfort and talked frankly with me about expressing love at a young age wasn't necessary but she understood the need. She knew I wouldn't let things get out of control or go too far, and that Terry was afraid enough of my father to keep in line.

I may have grown up as daddy's little girl, but as I was getting older, I found myself relying on Mom more and more.

Leaning in, I pressed my lips to Terry's, pursing them until he opened his. Turning to face him, I smirked as he began to recline against his pillows, never breaking the kiss. As I went with him, I partially rested on top of him, letting one leg slip between his while putting most of my weight on my side. One of Terry's arms slipped around my lower back while the other settled at my waist.

Somewhere in my mind, it registered that he had brushed his teeth since he had come upstairs.

Better safe than sorry…

Terry withdrew and spoke softly, "I change my mind, you're the best." Pulling back, I bit my lip and stared at him. A slight flush had risen to his cheeks and his respiration had elevated noticeably. Eyes wide, he asked, "How far away was your mom?"

"Not that far away," I snickered.

He leaned forward and kissed me again, letting his tongue seek out mine. I felt the hand at my hip move upward, slipping under my shirt and tracing the outline of my bra before cupping my breast. When I pushed myself into him, he moaned and his hips subconsciously started to rise, pushing my thigh to rub against his groin.

After a minute, he broke away, "Ohhh… Time out."

"You started it," I laughed as he readjusted the front of his jeans.

"Yeah yeah…" he sat up suddenly and waited for me to do so as well, "Sorry, just… I have to be able to go down and say goodbye to your mom when she gets here. Would hate to do it looking like this…"

"This is true… See, if you hadn't wasted so much time drawing scales… or putting markers away…"

He laughed at that, "Damn me and my attention to detail."

A car pulled up eight minutes later and Terry and I walked downstairs together. Just as the doorbell rang, I headed to the foyer while Terry followed, carrying my bag. Mom had done a good job reapplying her makeup but there was nothing she could do to hide the redness in her eyes. She thanked Dr. Miller profusely for picking me up from school and stepped in briefly to admire the posters. The entire time, she was trying to cover up her tense form with soft laughs and bright smiles.

Something was very wrong, but I waited until we were in the car before asking.

She didn't answer until we had reached the sign that said: Now Entering Gotham City.

^V^

Rearranging fifty year old photographs on the credenza in the drawing room, I paused when I heard a vehicle coming up the drive. Looking out the bay window, I watched on as Master Bruce rounded the bend in a glossy sedan, an hour earlier than expected. Seeing the backseat passenger, I was quick to conclude that young Master Nathan had been unable to complete the day at school. At breakfast, he had been unusually quiet and listless and his voice had been a bit off. Given the number of colds that bombarded the elementary school in the autumn months, it had only been a matter of time before one had taken hold of my youngest charge.

Father and son managed to enter and head upstairs before I was able to intersect them on the ground floor. Knowing it was a cough that had been brewing, I made my way to the kitchen briefly to scooped a small bowl of orange sorbet. Not only would it ease the suffering of the child, it was also one of his favorite treats. The mere clatter of spoon on the porcelain bowl had called forth two very hungry felines who were accustomed to earning a lap or two from Ms. Selina.

With an appeasing smile, I dismissed them and the dominant calico promptly swatted the younger black kitten as if to blame him for not receiving a treat.

Taking the elevator, I continued to the third floor bedroom, finding the door ajar and hushed voices within. Passing into the room, I sighed to see Master Nathan already wearing fresh pajamas and sitting upright in bed. Leslie was at his side taking his otic temperature while offering warm smiles and kind words. Master Bruce stood at his bedside, the dog at his feet looking from one Wayne to the other.

Master Nathan's face was red with fever and his short dark hair was in complete disarray. Even in such a sad state, he looked up at me and smiled before croaking, "Hi, Alfred."

"How are we fairing, Master Nathan?"

He coughed hoarsely, drawing the full attention of his father and his dog. The boy then replied, "Plaguey."

As Leslie removed the thermal reader from the boy's ear, she glanced at the display, "One-hundred and one. The Tylenol should kick in soon, but I'll go get him a damp washcloth."

When she took leave to the attached bathroom, I chose the vacant side of the bed to approach and make my offering of the cold treat. The boy's eyes lit up and he smiled, clearing his throat before thanking me. As he savored the first bite, I looked to Master Bruce, not surprised to see concern still covering every inch of his face. Although he had been ill an injured countless times, he had never taken well to seeing his children in the same state, both young and old.

I made the attempt to distract him, "Ms. Selina called a short while ago, said she was nearly home."

He nodded, his eyes never leaving the boy's face as he replied, "Good. I called her earlier… told her I was picking him up from school." Pausing briefly as his son coughed quietly, Master Bruce then resumed, "Leslie is going to culture his throat, make sure it's not Strep."

"A wise decision."

"What's Strep?" Master Nathan inquired before licking at his spoon.

His father replied, "It's an infection, makes you have a sore throat and fever like you have… you have to take certain medicine for it and then you'll be all better."

"Like the orange stuff?"

Master Bruce nodded, "Well, yes, cough syrup, but other medicine as well."

Seeming drained of energy, Master Nathan leaned into his pillows, "Yuck."

Leslie returned, handing me the cold, damp wash cloth to place on the fevered brow of her patient. As she searched through her medical bag as it sat on the foot of the bed, she began to explain the swab procedure to Master Nathan. How it would tickle the back of his throat and make him cough a little bit, but that it wouldn't hurt. The boy had looked up at me and I smiled with reassurance, "A cotton swab is no match for an offensive player such as yourself, young sir."

Although he had squirmed a bit, Master Nathan endured the culture and rather than fuss afterward, he asked if he could watch a movie. I knew that Leslie would promptly examine the sample she had taken in the Cave and that Master Bruce would surely stand by peering over her shoulder the entire time. Offering to sit with him until they returned, I added, "Only one request, Master Nathan?"

"What?" he replied hoarsely.

"No films involving transforming robots."

He rolled his eyes before informing me for the hundredth time, "They're called Transformers, Alfred."

"Nevertheless, sir… I abhor technology as it is, I need no further encouragement."

Given that Miss Mattie already had a small entertainment area set up in her sitting room, Master Nathan had inherited the flat screen television and Blu-Ray player that had been used for the duration of his father's bed rest earlier in the year. Riddled with parental controls and timers to make sure the system shut off at bedtime, it was a treasured possession for the six-year-old. He had a large collection of videos that he seemingly never grew tired of watching, many of them computer animated. Although he enjoyed reading with his parents, he much preferred to lose himself in a film, sitting tucked in between them on a couch.

Much like a six-year-old boy that had once lived in the Manor many, many years ago.

We were through the first twenty-five minutes of one of the Toy Story films when Leslie returned, along with Ms. Selina who had finally returned from the Preserve. She was quick to sit on the bed with her son, kissing the crown of his head. Hearing the diagnosis, I hadn't been the least bit surprised. It certainly presented like Strep throat, a curable but insufferable condition, thankfully one that departed nearly as quickly as it surfaced.

Upon inquiring as to the whereabouts of Master Bruce, Ms. Selina responded, "I sent him to the drug store to get his medicine and some more cough drops and cough syrup."

Knowing how Master Bruce abhorred running errands on his own, I nodded slowly, "Ah."

"Don't worry, I sent him with a list… Although I should have him get some Vitamin Water as well…" I watched as she retrieved her cell phone, quickly typing a message before sending it. Returning her attention to her child, she kissed his brow again before taking the wash cloth to rewet it.

Leslie smiled down at me, "Too bad Dr. Wayne isn't in."

Ms. Selina smiled as she returned, "Actually, I have to pick her up in a little while… figured I would wait until Bruce got back that way he can sit with Nate."

After a brief coughing spell, Master Nathan announced, "Dad said he was going to watch the football game with me."

"Good… hopefully the game doesn't run too long, you need to get some rest, baby," Ms. Selina sat beside him once more, gently arranging the cloth on his forehead.

While packing up her bag, Leslie offered, "I'll check his temp in an hour or so. Other than that, you are hear by ordered to lay in bed, watch movies and eat whatever doesn't hurt your throat."

Master Nathan smirked before looking to me, "Is there any more sorbet?"

Taking the used bowl and spoon, I followed Leslie out of the room and towards the elevator at the end of the corridor. I depressed the second floor button in order to let her off at our quarters before trekking down to the ground floor. As I made my way to the kitchen, I was surprised once again to see Master Bruce coming up the drive, earlier than expected. Scooping the sorbet, I listened intently as the service door open but was put off when it slammed shut.

Rather than the usual order of sounds, namely hanging his jacket on the coat rack or removing his snow sodden shoes before further entering the house, I heard Master Bruce stomp right by the kitchen and into the hall. Holding off on calling out to him, I left the bowl on the counter and moved to peer out the open archway. I was shocked to see he had already made it to the elevator, the bags from the drug store clenched in a fist.

"Master Bruce, is everything all right?"

He turned to glare at me, "After I'm done with them, you're next."

"Sir?"

When the gilded car arrived, he ripped back the door and strode in, angrily punching at the button controls.

"Oh dear," I muttered as went about retrieving the sorbet. Before heading back upstairs, I prepared a carafe of ice water and retrieved a glass. Carrying everything on a small tray, I quickly walked over to the elevator and awaited its descent.

Arriving once more to the third floor, I was met with angry growls, their volume barely contained. Master Bruce towered over Ms. Selina and Leslie and he snapped at them, shoving a small item in their faces that was difficult to decipher from a distance. As I closed in on the feud, I heard him growl, "-do you think you are, prescribing them without asking me?"

Leslie calmly replied, "Selina came to me, how was I supposed to know she hadn't discussed it with you?"

"Because, Leslie," he barked, "If she had, you wouldn't have been asked to do it!"

"Master Bruce," I cut in.

His angry gaze flew to me, "And you, of all people, not to tell me-."

Leslie offered a defense, "He didn't know, Bruce."

Upon pausing beside Leslie, I finally recognized the small plastic case of birth control pills, presumably belonging to Miss Mattie seeing how her mother had no physiological need for them. As Master Bruce prepared to unleash further verbal assault, I spoke, "If you wish to further berate your wife and Dr. Thompkins, please do it out of hearing range of your ill son, sir."

He glared at me again, a look known to have made the scum of Gotham plead for their mothers. Without warning, he handed me the plastic bag, "Give these to Nathan." Returning his focus to Ms. Selina, "Let's go."

"Excuse me?" she snapped as he turned to walk towards their bedroom.

"This discussion isn't over," he explained, making a mild attempt at lowering the aggression in his tone.

Never one to back down, Ms. Selina threw her hands in the air, "Why bother having a discussion, Bruce, you've obviously made up your mind on the matter, interesting considering you haven't bothered to listen to a damned thing Leslie and I have said."

"I listened," he leaned closer to her, "I listened as you told me you went behind my back to get my daughter birth control!"

"Our daughter," she leaned towards him, showing no sign of backing down.

I felt the strong urge to step between them, but feared being struck out by both husband and wife. With steel nerves, Leslie decided to disregard her own welfare, pushing her way between them and staring up directly at Master Bruce's reddened face. It took her poking him in the middle of his chest for him to actually recognize her presence.

"Bruce… your wife came to me in confidence knowing you would overreact, just as you are right now."

"Overreact? You prescribed her-!"

Leslie cut him off, poking him in the chest again while raising her own voice, "Yes, I prescribed her medication to help make her menstrual cycles more regular and to help control her adolescent hormones. In now way did I prescribe them to her to have sexual intercourse at the age of thirteen."

Seemingly ignoring the fact that either myself or Ms. Selina were in his presence, Master Bruce's eyes never left the aged face before him. She used his full attention to make one final point before turning to leave, "Now, you have a sick son who has a fever and a sore throat. Why don't you spend your time and energy making him feel comfortable as opposed to a senseless domestic dispute?"

As she made her way towards the stairs, I was surprised to see Ms. Selina following her without looking back. If she had, she would have seen the apologetic look that replaced the furious one on her husband's face. He took three strides after her, calling out, "Selina, wait."

"Don't!" she shouted upon reaching the stairwell.

A silent moment passed before his broad shoulders slumped, followed shortly by his turning back to face me. The features on his face hardened slightly, belying the defeated look in his eyes as he asked, "You had no idea?"

"I swear, sir."

He proposed another question, "I'm not entirely wrong, am I? Being upset?"

Not wanting to lie to him, I offered, "You are not entirely wrong, sir… You are not entirely correct, either."

If that was what he wanted to hear, he showed no sign of it as he offered no thanks.

If that wasn't what he wanted to hear, he made no issue with it, opting to take the tray from me before walking into his son's bedroom.

^V^

With the volume on the television lowered, Dick entering the apartment sounded like a heard of elephants. I quickly navigated from the living room where I had been sorting laundry and snapped my fingers once I was in the hall. He looked up at me as he kicked his shoes off and whispered, "What?"

"Shh."

Setting his briefcase down along with a pair of white plastic bags, he mouthed quietly, "Shh yourself."

As I approached him, I spoke softly while still evoking authority, "You shh. He just went down for a nap."

"Just?" he asked, looking to his watch before picking up his belongings, "It's almost three."

"I know, but he didn't wake up until eight-thirty."

Dick shook his head, "I told you not to let him sleep in."

"Hey," I wagged a finger at my husband, "He sleeps in, I get to sleep in. I get to sleep in, I can portray my cheery disposition during the daylight hours."

After a moment of contemplation, Dick agreed and leaned in to kiss my cheek, "Good point."

Following him into the kitchen where it was safe to speak at a normal volume, I asked, "What's in the bags?"

Dick set them on the counter before resting his briefcase on the floor, "Surprises." When he caught me raising a brow in silent inquiry, he clarified, "Will finally confessed his secret taco salad dip recipe, figured I'd give it a shot."

"As long as the shot doesn't turn into a ka-boom," I smirked.

I know he had been harping on Will about it for several years for the secret that he held close to his heart. It had started shortly after Will had joined the Firm, bringing in a platter of the dip to share with Dick and my father. My husband had instantly been addicted and demanded to know the recipe. Will, always one to tease and poke fun at his colleague, had found it too much fun to refuse Dick and then observe the resulting antics. I had simply tasted the dish once to know that instead of using corn tortilla chips, Will used Salsa Verde Doritos.

After confirming my suspicions, Will had sworn me to secrecy which was easy considering I also enjoyed watching my husband suffer for pointless reasons.

As Dick unloaded his bounty onto the counter, he asked, "So, dear, how was your day?"

"Not bad, actually. Made some headway on the Blu Flu gang's whereabouts thanks to the tags Tim's been planting." Since his encounter with their lieutenant on Halloween, Tim had been systematically hunting down members of various importance and tagging tracers on them. Each tracer had sporadically crossed the city as the thugs went about their normal routines but after two weeks, they had all finally visited the same location at least once. It was an eight unit condo in the East End, owned under the name of the late Blu Flu leader Arnold Stewart.

"So it's going to be a fun night, I take it…" he smirked as he shed his blazer and rolled up his sleeves, a feat that would have been agony months earlier but had finally become a meaningless task. As he began washing his hands, he added, "Explains why Tim and Cass cut out early from work… here I thought they were just being lazy like me."

"You left Will there alone?" I asked.

Dick shook his head, "No, once he saw that the rest of us were playing hooky for the afternoon, he decided he had some DV-R and sleep to catch up on. He seemed happy to head out early… must be why he finally confessed his secret recipe to me…"

"Must be," I replied. Thinking of another person who had called it a day early, I said, "Selina called a little while ago, said Nathan came home sick from school."

"Bummer," Dick retrieved the cutting board and a chipping knife, "Good thing he got sick after football season or else we would have had a mini-Bruce out there… trying to defy the odds of medicine by will powering through it."

"I was thinking that it was a good thing we didn't take Ethan up there this weekend to play."

"Right," he turned to face me, "That too."

As he began rinsing produce, I offered to help chop vegetables and he obliged, admitting he could never dice tomatoes as well as I. For the last five months, we had participated in more domestic normalcy than we had throughout the duration of six years of marriage. Having him home after being shot had been worrisome at first, but he had learned to tone down his ever abundant energy, directing most of it to the care of Ethan. As a result, most of our alone time had turned to conversations reflecting family, friends and work.

Thankfully, his impending return to his former nightlife had opened the door to discussions of extracurricular activities.

"Jim get back to you?" Dick asked as he brought me a colander of Romaine lettuce.

I nodded, "Yeah. He said he was going to come out the entire last week of November."

Dick went back to the counter, battled with the baby lock on the cupboard and then retrieved a large skillet. He glanced back to me as he set it on the stove, "Maybe we can dress Ethan and Sarah up as pilgrims."

"Well, not this year. Mo and Sarah are going to stay in Chicago for Thanksgiving."

"For serious?" he arched a brow at me, "I thought they had a good time when they came out for Halloween?"

"They did," I reassured him, "It's just that Mo wants to spend it in Chicago."

Dick nodded slowly, "And Jim Jr. doesn't want to miss coming out for Jim Sr."

The second anniversary of losing Dad was approaching. The last holiday we had shared before he had succumbed to cancer had been Thanksgiving. The first and last official Gordon one, he had called it. Jim, Mo and Sarah had still been living in Gotham and instead of celebrating at Wayne Manor, we had shared dinner together in town. That wasn't to say we didn't spend any time with the Family that day, as Alfred had arranged for everyone to attend brunch at the Manor.

It had been the last time Bruce had spent time my father.

I never had the courage to ask what their last exchange had been in fear that it had been along the lines of, "I'll see you later."

Drawing my thoughts to the present, I proceeded to coarsely chop the lettuce, "It's fine, though. No need to drag Mo through the process of flying back to the city she loathes so much so soon."

"Loathes is such a strong word," Dick smirked as he crumbled bits of ground beef into the warming skillet. He looked over his right shoulder at me, "Think they are still figuring things out?"

"Well, to go from blissfully happy to hospitalized is a bit of a strain on any relationship," I noted, "But love conquers all."

"Love…" Dick agreed while taking a glass bottle out of the grocery bag, "And chipotle." when he caught me staring at him, he added, "It's the secret ingredient."

"To what? Irritable Bowel Syndrome?"

"Will said it was-."

I shook my head, "No, trust me, it's not."

Upon explaining how he had been duped, Dick glared out across the room, "Damn you, Bill the Butcher."

Laughing, I countered along the theme of Dick's revered movie, "Easy there, Amsterdam."

We resumed preparing the dish, loosely making plans for when Jim came out. Aside from Thanksgiving dinner at the Manor, I wanted to set aside a day to honor Dad in full force. His favorite meals, watching ridiculous movies from my youth that he used to watch with me endlessly and of course visiting him at the cemetery. I made weekly treks to make sure his plot was tidy and that he had fresh flowers, often finding a single, bare rose already in place…

"I was thinking about going out tonight."

It took me a moment to not only shed my thoughts, but realize what Dick had said and what his words meant. Collecting diced tomatoes, peppers and onions into a mixing bowl, I wiped my hands and the knife on a hand towel, "Oh?"

He kept his eyes on the stove top where he was browning hamburger, "Yeah."

"When did you decide this?" I asked, more curiosity than concern in my voice.

Dick waited to respond until after he had taken the skillet off of the burner, "Today. Yesterday. Last week. I don't know."

I offered him a warm smile as he finally turned to look at me, but said nothing.

When he sat across from me at the small kitchen table, he sighed heavily as his eyes fell to his lap, "I just… I can't lay in bed at night… staring up at the ceiling. I can't… read about what they do in the morning paper." When his gaze rose to meet mine, he concluded, "I can't wait any longer."

Shaking my head, "Patience was never one of you strong points."

"I'm not kidding, Babs."

After a moment, I nodded, "I know."

Exhaling loudly, Dick gripped the edge of the table with both hands, flexing his shoulders simultaneously. When he caught me staring, he said, "I don't think it's going to get any better."

I was about to remind him how far he had come since his shoulder had literally been blown apart by the Joker's point blank shot but a tone sounded from my mobile device. Retrieving it, I was surprised to see it was notifying me that a car had gained access to the first floor garage. The ID pass identified the vehicle belonging to Bruce Wayne, odd considering he was home with a sick child.

"What is it?" Dick asked.

The security cameras in the garage were motion sensors, following the sedan as it parked in one of the guest spots. I cued the nearest one to zoom in before replying ,"Selina and Mattie are here."

"For serious?" he asked, rising to his feet in order to look over my shoulder. When I showed him the display, he commented, "Hunh."

We watched on the small hand held device as Selina quickly crossed the pavement with Mattie making an effort to keep up. As they approached the elevator doors, a different camera brought up a visual of their faces as Selina pressed the call button. I granted them access while speaking into the microphone, "Hey, what's up?"

Selina exhaled forcibly, her nostrils and eyebrows broadcasting her anger loud and clear, "I need an intervention."

Without another word, they stepped into the car and started the ride up. I glanced to Dick as he remained beside me.

"Seeing how she is most likely angry at a member of the male species… I'm going to make myself scarce. I'll be hiding with a half-eaten animal cracker under the couch if you need me."

He actually turned and left, leaving me to quietly call out, "Dick, what about this mess?"

Knowing I wouldn't speak any louder for fear of waking Ethan, Dick snickered, "Victory," before making his way out of earshot.

The front door opened a moment later to hushed voices and quick footfalls. I moved out into the hall in order to once again announce that Ethan was sleeping. The cameras had not exaggerated the emotions on Selina's face, although her daughter had managed to put on a smile.

"Dick's in the den, if you want to beat him at Wii Mario Kart."

Mattie smirked, "My pleasure."

Alone with her mother, I opened my mouth to ask what was going on when she stormed by me and into the kitchen. Following her, I found she had already crossed the room, setting her hands on the counter, gripping on as if it were for dear life. After a silent minute, I finally asked, "So…"

Without looking at me, Selina replied, "I need a way to kill him and make it look like an accident."

There was no need to ask who the subject was, "What did he do?"

Without warning, she turned and faced me, "All I asked him to do was to pick up the prescriptions at the drug store-."

"For Nate?"

"Well, yes. And then while he was there, to get the rest of ours… I knew it was a bad idea… God forbid he simply just pick up a bag without verifying every single item in it. I should have never asked him to-."

"Selina?"

"What?" she snapped.

"What is going on?"

After finally taking a seat, she shook her head, "Bruce saw that Mattie had a prescription for orthotrycyclen. One he didn't know she had."

"Please tell me he is sedated and chained upside down somewhere… or at least that poor Terry is in Witness Protection."

That brought a softness to Selina's face briefly, "Regrettably neither." She drew a long breath before starting again, "Mattie came to me in June, asking if she could start taking it… not for the contraceptive purpose but you know."

"I know."

"Anyway, since discussing our daughter's irregular periods was obviously not a priority over him recovering from nearly dying, I asked Leslie to prescribe it to her without consulting him. Problem solved, no harm done."

"Until now," I said softly.

"Until now," Selina echoed. After shaking her head, she continued, "I have seen him angry. I have seen him pissed off. This was… a whole new level."

"Well naturally."

"Naturally?" she asked.

I thought it was odd that Selina hadn't made the connection herself, but whenever she and Bruce fought, especially over the inconsequential, logic and reason were no longer in play. I decided the least I could do was point her in the right direction, "He has spent your entire relationship trying to protect you from things by not telling you about them. For the first time in decades, the tables have turned. You are trying to protect him."

Realization dawned on her, softening her gaze and letter her mouth open slightly. After a pause, she whispered, "I hate you sometimes."

"No, you don't."

"No," she shook her head, "I don't. But damnit… now I have to apologize."

"I wouldn't say that. He's earned the right to suffer after all of the times he's held out on you." I waited a beat before adding, "Hey, why don't you two stay for a while, Dick and I were making Will's infamous taco dip."

Finally, a grin spread over her face, "What's that proverb… _He who suffers much will know much_?"

I smiled back, "I prefer _We create our fate every day… most of the ills we suffer from are directly traceable to our own behavior_."

Stifling a laugh, she asked, "Put that on an 'I'm Sorry But Not Really' card for me, would you?"

Quoting her daughter from moments earlier, I nodded, "My pleasure."

^V^

I had no idea what to expect upon my second return to Wayne Manor.

Coming home from the Preserve earlier, I had anticipated a long night of taking care of my ill son and doing my best to make him feel better. Seeing the concern in Bruce's face and hearing our baby boy was stricken with Strep had been worrisome, but I knew our combined efforts would put him on the mend. Sending Bruce to the pharmacy had been a way to help give him a task to focus on, something that always helped him when he was troubled.

Little had I known that the very gesture would have ruined the rest of the evening.

When Bruce had returned from the drug store, I had been sitting with Nathan on his bed, keeping the washcloth cool on his brow and trying not to cringe when he coughed hoarsely. Leslie had been due shortly to take his temperature again, and when footsteps had sounded in the hall, I had leaned over and kissed Nathan's brow.

"Ready for another ear poke?"

He had smirked up at me, putting a great deal of effort into wiggling his ears the smallest amount, "Yep." We both had looked to the door, Nathan greeting his father's surprise appearance with, "Dad, I'm going to watch all of the Toy Story movies."

Bruce had barely recognized the salutation, crossing the room with his eyes boring holes in my skull. He had muttered softly, "We'll be right back, Nate," before roughly grabbing my arm and leading me to the doorway. My response should have been a sold right hook to Bruce's jaw, but I had restrained myself until we were in the corridor.

"What the hell is going on?"

In a growl I hadn't heard since the night the Joker killed Helena Bertinelli, Bruce had snarled, "I don't know, you tell me."

When he had reached into the pharmacy bag, I had suddenly known why he was so upset. As he started yelling at me for coercing our daughter into a promiscuous lifestyle, Leslie had arrived only to be berated as well. We both had diligently tried to calm him with an explanation, but his tone and his brow only fell lower with anger. At one point, he had gone as far as snapping at me that I was being irresponsible with our daughter's life. Alfred had managed to offer a brief enough of a distraction for Leslie to finally get between the two of us, but the damage was done.

Without looking back, I had followed Leslie downstairs, storming off towards the service entrance. After blindly grabbing a random coat off of the rack, I snatched a set of keys in the garage and made my way to the sedan. Settling in the driver's seat, I had suddenly became aware of it still being slightly warm and the faint smell of Bruce's cologne lingering in the air. It had been the car he had just driven.

Speeding down the drive, I had forced myself to take deep breaths and try and focus on anything but the look on Bruce's face from moments earlier. We fought all of the time, but mostly for the sport of it. The last time we had honestly had a huge blowup had been when Bruce found out that the Joker knew his identity, courtesy of Helena's last words and the Old Joke that had been left in her bloodied hand. Bruce had raced back home from the Clocktower, promptly informing me that I was to pack for myself and the kids and that we were going into hiding.

That morning, it had been Alfred who had saved the day, anonymously returning from Africa and arriving just as our world was falling to pieces.

Then, I had understood why he had been so upset, knowing his greatest enemy would stop at nothing to get to him by hurting those he loved once again. But his screaming in my face that I was a bad mother for allowing Mattie to be on birth control without his consent was an entirely different story.

There had been no point in staying and arguing with him. He had needed to calm down and collect his thoughts and I had needed to get away so as to not claw his eyes out. Decades earlier whenever we had been at odds, I would have taken a trip to Europe or South America to give Gotham's dark knight time to put things in perspective. My absence on the rooftops must have been duly noted in his activity logs, perhaps with little personal notes reflecting upon our last encounter. Back then, he had always tried to keep things professional, where I had crossed boundary after boundary to see that it was kept anything but.

While en route to Terry's to pick Mattie up, I had been pulled over for going fifty-seven in a forty-five mile per hour zone. I had gladly accepted the speeding ticket, thanking the officer to the point that he must have been tempted to run a field sobriety test. After he had handed the dreaded slip of paper to me and reviewed protocol to either pay the fine or contest the charge, my cell had chirped from my pocket. Seeing how the five minute drive to Terry's had turned into nearly fifteen minutes, I had not been surprised to see Mattie's name on the display.

I had promptly answered, "I'm sorry, I'm on my way."

"What's wrong?" she had asked.

Not knowing if I had even wanted to tell her about the latest upheaval at home, let alone over the phone, I had replied, "Nothing… just… I'm just leaving here. Be about fifteen minutes."

"Mom?"

"Nothing… just your father-."

Mattie had cut me off, "What happened?"

"He's fine. At least until I kill him, he'll be fine," I had offered, "Listen, I'll be there soon. Okay?"

There had been a brief pause before she had said, "Okay, see you soon."

Finally making it to Terry's, I had put on a smile and came in for a moment to see the fruition of my daughter and her boyfriend's hard work. Had I still not been seeing red from my fight with Bruce, I would have been able to note how remarkable the artwork on the posters were. I probably would have had the same look of pride on my face as the one beaming from Dr. Miller's. Thanking him again, I had escorted Mattie outside, not saying a word as we had gotten into the car.

"Mom, what's going on?" she had finally inquired.

I had remained silent as I navigated back through the township of Bristol and onto the county highway, completely bypassing the turn towards Wayne Manor. To my surprise, she hadn't repeated her question, simply remaining silent in the passenger seat with her eyes glued straight ahead. As we made it to the St. James parkway and crossed into the city limits, I had exhaled slowly, forcing the tension from my voice and shoulders.

Recounting the afternoon's activities, I had expected Mattie to turn red with embarrassment or completely withdraw upon hearing about the sugar-coated argument. Instead, her first reaction had been, "Is Nathan going to be okay?"

I had found myself smiling, "Yes, just a couple days in bed and some antibiotics. It's contagious though, so he's going to be holed up in his room for a while."

"When he gets better…he's going to be bouncing off the walls until he's released back into the wild."

I had laughed softly, "Yes… yes he will."

Six minutes later, we had passed the first sign declaring the approaching Tri-Corner exit. Mattie had looked to me and asked, "Are we going to the Clocktower?"

I had nodded, "I figured I would give Dad some time to rethink his position on the matter. That and we haven't seen Barbara and Dick since last weekend."

"I saw her on the monitor last night," Mattie had smirked.

"All right, smarty."

After a beat, she had finally asked, "Is he mad at me?"

"No, honey…" I looked to her before making my way into the right had lane, "He's mad at me and Leslie, even though he shouldn't be… We tried to explain everything to him but you know Dad."

"Yeah," she had said softly.

The visit to Barbara's had gone as expected. Her analytical mind rivaled Bruce's, making her a key ally in trying to find logic in arguments I had with him. While Mattie and Dick had feuded in the den, Barbara had listened briefly to my side of the story before being able to point out Bruce's. We had then joked back when I had been pregnant with Nathan hadn't even been on speaking terms with Bruce. He had missed the ultrasound determining our second born child's gender and when I had decided to learn it without his consent, he had been furious.

Barbara had been there to point out that Bruce never handled being out of the loop well, something that had only worsened since he had stepped down from being Batman.

We had stayed for dinner, of which would have earned us a thorough flogging from Alfred. Instead of a finely calibrated meal, we had settled on Will Cutting's very own taco salad along with a collection of appetizers that Barbara, Mattie and I had concocted. Dinning in the den, we had watched a movie with our finger foods, joined by a sleepy Ethan once he finally woke from his late nap. Dick had joked that it had nearly been the usual time for Ethan's bath and last diaper check, jokingly blaming his wife for the upturned schedule.

The look on my red-headed savior's face had urged Mattie to say, "Our cue to leave."

And despite the fact that I had all intentions of apologizing to Bruce, the ride home was filled with dread.

We pulled up the drive a little after eight-thirty, several windows lit in the great house. I pulled right into the garage and killed the ignition before looking to Mattie, "Well… probably should go straight to bed tonight, kiddo."

"Batten down the hatches?" she forced a smirk to her lips.

"Something like that."

She grabbed her backpack from the back seat before I secured the car for the night. As I hung the key back up in the lock box, Mattie went ahead of me and opened the door leading inside. In silence, we shed our shoes and coats and proceeded towards the corridor. Although the kitchen and nook were illuminated, there was no sign of human life. We proceeded towards the stairs, climbing them slowly with apprehension rather than exhaustion. At the second floor landing, Alfred appeared and greeted us, still wearing his dark slacks and green sweater.

"Ms. Selina," he nodded curtly, "And Miss Mattie, how did your educational pursuits fair you?"

"Good, we have everything done, just need to practice our presentation," she shifted her bag on her shoulder.

"Very good to hear," he smiled warmly before looking to me, "Master Nathan is feeling a bit better. Dr. Thompkins just administered him a final dose of Tylenol and cough suppressants for the evening."

I asked, "Is he asleep?"

Alfred shook his head slightly, "No, he wanted to watch the remainder of the football game, madam. The cursed Cowboys are up by three." I thanked him and bid him goodnight but before I took to climbing the final tier of stairs, he added, "Master Bruce, however, is sleeping. In Master Nathan's room."

"Thanks," I said again.

After seeing Mattie off at her bedroom door, I proceeded to Nathan's and wasn't surprised to find the door ajar. The bedside lamps were on as well as the glow of the television screen, each highlighting two sleeping figures. One was Bruce, his neck free of its tie with the shirt unbuttoned and the sleeves rolled up, as he lay on top of the covers and the other was Ace as he sprawled over the foot of the bed. Nathan was sitting upright against the pillows, eyes glued to the TV as his tiny fists were clenched in front of him, barely able to contain his excitement. It took a minute before he spotted me at the door and when he did, he grinned, "They scored, Mom."

"See, they must have known you needed some cheering up," I replied before entering and taking a seat beside him. I watched the instant replay with him before my eyes fell to Bruce's too peaceful face. Somehow, I resisted the urge to reach out and rake my claws over it.

Movement brought my gaze to Nathan as he unscrewed the top of a vitamin water bottle. When he caught me looking, he explained, "Dad forgot about my juice… but he went back out and got it for me."

"That was nice of him…" I paused before asking, "You want me to wake him up, get him out of here?"

Nathan wiped his upper lip after a hefty gulp, "He said he was going to sleep with me tonight."

"Ah," I responded, not sure if I had hid the sadness in my voice well enough. I leaned over and kissed the top of Nathan's head, "Well, if he starts snoring, you wake him up and kick him out, okay? You need to get some rest tonight."

"Okay."

I showered, changed and lay awake in bed for two hours before I heard the door creak open. In the concealment of darkness, Bruce made his way into the bathroom, washed up and took his meds before returning towards the doorway. I cleared my throat as he reached for the knob and said, "Not so fast."

He didn't seem surprised that I was awake, "He's been coughing on me all night, might as well stay in the sick ward."

Pushing myself to sit up in bed, I patted the empty space beside me, the space he should have been already asleep and snoring in. After a heavy sigh, he walked over, turning on the lamp before carefully taking a seat facing me. He went to speak but I beat him to it, "You were a shitty husband this afternoon."

"Selina, I-."

I cut him off again, "You were a shitty husband this afternoon… but… it was because you were being a good father."

He didn't have a response to that and remained silent.

"You know her, Bruce. You know how we've raised her. You know she would never do something like that… something that would risk all that she's working towards…" When he kept quiet, I continued, "And I know I should have told you. And I'm sorry I didn't."

"You have no reason to be sorry," he finally admitted, "You didn't tell me because you knew I would overreact. And when you finally did, I overreacted. Ergo, you were right, I was wrong."

Strep throat or not, I leaned forward and kissed him softly, "And?"

"And… I'm sorry."

I kissed him again.

He continued, "But in my defense-."

I kissed him a third time.

After a while, he withdrew and said, "Never mind. Forgot what I was going to say… short term memory and all."

^V^

"Are you staring… at your biceps?"

I glanced up to the monitor in the Cave to see Barbara's enlarged image scrutinizing me. Rolling my left shirt sleeve down, I defended, "No… monitoring bruise progression."

"Right… and you needed tickets to the gun show to do that?" she smirked.

"Ha ha…" I pulled the sleeve back up to reveal five day old mottling. She made an empathetic face as I commented, "This is actually a lot better looking than my side."

"Is that from the truck hitting you?" she asked.

Nodding, I said, "Yeah. Cass has been on my case since last Thursday, doing yoga, compresses and massage. Seems to be helping."

"You were lucky you didn't break anything."

"Luck? I call it skill," I beamed up at her.

In actuality, it had been a combination of both. My two week binge on tracking down and frightening Blu Flu members had a small hiccup when one had panicked. Instead of acting in accordance with typical encounters with a tall, dark brooding vigilante, the suspect had faked fleeing in order to abruptly take the offense. It had been a grand scale game of Frogger as he tried running me down with his Escalade, backed with police grade tires and expert hand eye coordination. Needless to say, while I had been unable to blow out his tires, he had been able to maneuver the large vehicle whilst shooting at me.

In the end, I had settled for smashing through the windshield, but that had been an afterthought to his clipping my side at forty-five miles per hour. Although the driver had suffered numerous broken bones after I forced him to crash into an alley, I had escaped with strained muscles and bruises in the pattern of his chrome grille. Dick had joked at work earlier in the week that it certainly beat tread marks from tires.

That it had.

Barbara then asked, "Where's Cass, beating up your protégé?"

I shook my head while sitting back into the chair, hoping the heating pad on my side wasn't visible, "No. She's suiting up. Mattie didn't come down tonight."

"Ah, that makes sense."

"It does?"

"Selina and Mattie dropped by tonight for a bit, stayed for dinner then went home."

"Wait, just Selina and Mattie dropped by?"

"Well," she paused to adjust her glasses, "Nate has Strep, so Bruce stayed home with him."

There was more to it, but I didn't verbally press for it. Instead, I ignored her as I started mapping out patrols based on her findings from the Blu Flu tracers, only giving quiet nods of affirmations. After fifteen minutes, she sighed, "Fine… I'll confess."

"Confess to what?" I fought back a smirk.

She laughed softly before admitting that Bruce and Selina had a fight and the latter had come to the all-knowing Oracle for some perspective. When I asked what the fight had been about, she explained, "Bruce picked up Nathan's meds at the pharmacy and picked up the ones for the rest of the Family. Including Mattie's."

"So?"

"So… apparently, she is on the pill."

"The… Oh," I let my brow rise slightly, "Wow. Surprised the Manor isn't on fire."

"Yeah. It was more for symptomatic reasons instead of contraceptive but Bruce naturally lost it and went Crazy-Bat on Selina."

"Who no doubt countered with Crazy-Cat…"

"Exactly… She never called when she got back to the house… she's probably burying his body in the rose garden as we speak."

I smirked as Dick came onto the screen as well, "Nah, it's too much work to dig in the frozen ground… she would just take him out in the woods… feed the cold, woodland critters."

"You are awful, all of you," I heard Cass remark as she crossed the platform towards me.

"Selina's a dirty fighter, we all know that. When push comes to shove, shove comes to mrraaawr!" Dick pantomimed a swipe of a clawed paw.

"Anyway," I said loudly, "I'm going to do surveillance after midnight, seems to be when there is a lull at their center of operations. Maybe try and get some cameras placed on the interior."

"Want some help?" Dick asked.

I made no attempt to hide the surprise in my voice, "Excuse me?"

He cleared his throat, "Figured it was a good night to stretch my wings so to speak. That and I finally lost all of my immobilization period belly flab so I fit back in my tights without a muffin top."

Barbara promptly reached around and viciously pinched Dick's hip, "Not so sure about that. Not after all that taco dip tonight."

It was always difficult to discern Dick's levity and gravity, especially when it came to serious issues. The smirk on his face contradicted the intensity of his eyes, making me lean towards the idea that he was on the level. Even still, I asked, "Seriously?"

He dropped the smirk, "Yeah, I mean, at least for an hour or two. Nothing suicidal, you know."

"If he does this, he has a list of restrictions," Barbara cut in. "No jumping from buildings higher than three stories, no extended d-cel line navigating, no taking on more than two assailants, no el-train tag, no lifting objects over fifty pounds, no-."

"Strictly backup," I surmised.

"Exactly," she nodded in agreement.

"What am I, twelve again?" Dick asked.

"You still laugh at the word duty," Barbara glanced up at him.

He managed to keep a stern look on his face for an entire thirty seconds before snickering, "Duty."

We agreed to meet at midnight at the Free Clinic before making our way to the unofficial gathering spot of the Blu Flu boys. After signing off, I turned the chair to face Cass, "And then there were three."

"He's not ready," she replied without hesitation.

"It won't hurt to get his feet wet."

"It won't?"

"Nope. Besides, if he gets too cocky, I'll knock him out and drag him home."

She rolled her eyes, "Okay…"

Rising to my feet, I hid the stiffness in my left side and took a step towards her, "Fine, you can knock him out, I'll drag him home."

She headed out a minute later, leaving me to suit up in solitude. Given the low for the evening, I opted for the triple weave thermal leggings and tunic to line the body armor and suit. The cape made for a mild source of warmth when wrapped around my figure, a luxury Dick would not have that night. I was pulling on the boots when I heard a faint noise in the main floor. Quickly checking the compartments for their contents, I mused that my student had opted to check in after all.

Grabbing the under tunic I had yet to put on, I stepped out of the costume vault, "Did you bring _me _any taco dip?"

Bruce stood just to the left of the chair by the computer, "Afraid not."

"Sorry, thought you were Mattie," I walked over and carefully pulled the shirt on.

"What's that from?" he nodded to my black and blue side and shoulder.

Adjusting the sleeves, I replied, "Oh, you know. Physics. Two objects can not occupy the same place at the same time. Namely my body and the front of a Cadillac Escalade."

Although I was smirking, Bruce opted to frown.

It had been two weeks since I had received the letter from Talia, two weeks that I had been keeping my own secret from Bruce. In all honesty, it had taken that amount of time too verify the handwriting with notes on file in the crays. Most of the time had been spent unearthing and cracking into two decade old love letters Talia had written Bruce when he had worked briefly alongside Ra's. I had, however, disclosed the letter to Cass and Barbara, and shortly after to Dick. My reasoning had been to find all of the facts and then present them to Bruce once I was certain.

After hearing about his afternoon with Selina, I quickly decided it was poor timing to tell him my little secret.

"We're going try and get some audio visuals at the Blu Flu house. See if we can get some of these guys in action."

"It seems to be a waste of manpower to have both you and Cassandra performing a single task."

It was a statement of fact, not a suggestion or even a remote inquiry.

It must have been one hell of a fight…

"Well, actually, Dick was going to put in a few hours tonight, test the waters a bit." Something happened to the frown on his face, making it a look that belonged half concealed by a cowl. Trying to cover for my big brother, I lied, "He literally just decided while we were talking a minute ago."

Bruce exhaled before responding, "It's his choice. No one else's."

When he turned to leave, I took a step after him, "Bruce… is everything all… I mean, did you need something?"

"It's nothing…" he paused to look at me briefly, "Remember, don't underestimate Stewart. He gets into a corner and he doesn't get desperate."

"He gets angry," I added. The Blu Flu had been around since before I donned my first domino mask, openly fronted by a barrage of fall guys, most of which were in Blackgate rotting away life sentences. Truthfully, it had been run by Glen Stewart and his twin brother, Arnold. Tragically, Arnold had died in a shootout with the police shortly before Bruce had given me the cowl. Bruce had tried to apprehend the gang leader his way, but SWAT and Special Crimes had seen fit to fill him full of lead.

Needless to say, the surviving Stewart brother had grown merciless in the seven years that followed.

"Well, hopefully I won't have to put the new Dragon Armor to test tonight."

"Hopefully," he said before leaving.

With Barbara giving me updates on who was arriving and departing from the residence in the East End, I navigated a good third of the city before midnight. The sub-freezing temperatures in the city had dipped lower than expected, leaving small-timers and muggers calling it a night. At ten of twelve, I landed on the roof of the Free Clinic, frightening away a few unsavory types by simply clearing my throat from above.

"Ahem," I heard from behind me.

Turning, I had to bite the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. It had been far too long since I had seen my ally in his trademark black and blue guise, especially considering what had happened to take him out of it. Rather than expressing emotion in light of the inspiring moment, I growled, "You lied. There is still residual muffin top."

He grinned at me, "Keep talking, Fat-man."

It was as if he had been away for a long weekend as opposed to nearly seven months. Leaving the Mobile to track us on the streets below, Nightwing and I traversed the rooftops, adhering to the literal translations of Barbara's orders. He wasn't straining his arm on grapple lines if he simply ran to the edge and leapt to the next building. We may have been several more stories higher than directed, but it wasn't as if he was jumping down from them.

I diligently tried not to evaluate his movements and efforts, but my eyes locked on to him all on their own. Although I had expected him to fatigue after twenty blocks, it seemed that he was only becoming more energized. His maneuvers grew more acrobatic and the smile on his face kept getting bigger. There was only the most minute amount of guarding his left arm, but he seemed comfortable and at ease.

Finally, I let myself smirk.

We spent a solid thirty minutes studying the building before making our way over to it. Lights were on the in first and second floors, but there was little activity inside. Much like my encounter on Halloween, my binoculars showed several men playing cards or being generally un-criminal. After a while, Nightwing grew antsy at my side and I muttered, "At least that hasn't changed."

He chided, "I've been sitting still since the end of April. Give a guy a break."

Ignoring his remark, I noted, "I count at least six on the ground floor. We can get things started on the third though. Most likely it's storage and sleeping quarters."

"Business in the front, party in the back," he commented.

I decide to let the façade slip for a moment, "So says the undisputed master of the mullet."

He gasped, "That hurts, man."

"I'll take the front. You can take the fire escape," I withdrew the grapple gun from my belt. When he reached for his own, I shook my head, "Fire escape."

"Seriously?"

"I could check in with Oracle, if you would prefer…"

He waved a black and blue glove at me, "All right, all right… jeesh."

Although we went our separate ways, we remained in audio contact, checking in with Morse code. While I snuck in through an unlocked window into a barren room, Nightwing complained at great length how there fire escape needed a power washing. I had never heard someone tap out "pigeon poop" on the Oracom before, or at least not so many times in a row.

Night vision ready, I was about to peer into the hall when I saw shadows coming up the stairwell, along with abundant laughs and a thunder of footsteps. Withdrawing back into the room, I contacted Nightwing to draw back and radio in Batgirl for help. His hushed voice came over the line, "What's wrong?"

I replied in Morse, _Six hostiles. Coming to third floor._

"I'll be right up."

_No_. _Strictly back up. So back up._

"Ass."

_Dick,_ I replied before listening closely to the footsteps. The lights never came on in the hall and I heard them joking about tripping and falling in the dark. When bypassed the room I was in, I waited for the last one to walk by before reaching out and grabbing him by the throat, silencing him and dragging him to me. Rendered unconscious, I gently set him on the floor, binding his hands and feet before looking, pleased that no one seemed to notice he was missing.

One down, five to go. That was if those down below stayed put.

I followed them, my silent footfalls undetectable over their ruckus. They argued jokingly about who was getting to sleep where, and I couldn't help but muse that they would be going to sleep a lot earlier than they intended. Again, I snatched on to the last on of the group, clamping my hand over his mouth as my other arm looped around his throat, baring down hard enough to cut off most of his oxygen supply.

I whispered into his ear lowly, "Are they armed?"

He shook his head, trembling instead of fighting back. When I pressed the edges of my gauntlet into his flesh and asked again, he nodded. He confirmed that all three had semi-automatic handguns before I granted him with a solid blow to the head. By then the others had become aware that they were two less, one poked his head out into the hall while snickering, "Looks like Rob and Jake wanted some alone time..."

By the time he spotted me, it was too late. I charged at him, forcing my elbow into his chest and using him as a battering ram into the room. As the others shouted out, I finished him off with my other elbow connected to the side of the head before driving a hook to his temple. As he fell before me, I leapt over top of him and launched myself at the biggest threat, the only one who had the focus to withdraw his firearm.

He got a desperate, misaimed shot off before I grabbed him by the collar with one hand and slammed my fist in to his face, his gun falling from a limp hand. Agony rode up my arm, from the blow, reminding me to use my less injured right arm more. Leaving him to collapse to the ground, I ducked as the other two finally became ware of what was happening, frantically shooting at me until I killed the overhead light with a batarang. Their heavy breaths singled them out, making them easy targets even without the night vision.

That was until I saw a shadow in the window, belonging to someone who was told to stand down…

They had seen it as well, immediately shooting at the near invisible boogey man outside. I used the opportunity to emerge again, their attention on the best decoy in Gotham. A moment of silence passed and they looked for one another in the dark, regrettably, when they should have been looking for me.

I grabbed the one closest to the door, latching onto his gun wielding hand and bringing it down. He instantly fired it, embedding a bullet in the floor, his last conscious effort as I brought my left elbow into his temple. Something whizzed by me and I threw the body in my grip at the final assailant, hearing a thud as they scrambled to the ground. He fired his remaining bullets in every direction, hoping one of them would hit a living target.

It had, but that didn't stop me from waiting for the click of an empty cartridge to crush his wrist with my boot heel.

Nor did it stop me from rapidly touring the remainder of the building, planting sensors and recording devices as quickly as possible.

When I finally made it to the rooftop on the building across the street, Nightwing was there waiting for me, "Showoff. Called it into dispatch. Apparently the Blu Flu boys had a fight amongst themselves, banged each other up pretty bad."

"That they did…" I winced as I pulled back my cape, revealing a bloody tear over my bicep."

"Well, the two on the ground floor are taken care of as well, all within Babs' List o Rules," Nightwing eyed me for a moment before saying, "Let's get you to the Cave. I had the Mobile pull up out back."

"Free Clinic is closer," I growled.

He snickered, "You just don't want Alfred to lecture you."

I remained silent as we navigated to the Mobile, the adrenaline flooding my system giving way to throbbing in my arm. I took the driver's seat, refusing to use auto-pilot or for Nightwing to touch the wound on my arm. As we neared the parking lot behind the Clinic, Nightwing mused, "Well at least they didn't shoot me, Barbara would have killed you."

"And you."

Without warning, he reached over and patted my shoulder rough enough to force me to wince, "Ah, it's good to be back."

^V^


	5. Come What May:  V

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family spends the holiday helping others, day and night.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Small excerpt of The BFG by Roald Dahl in Selina's POV. "Let's talk for a long time" is a nod to The Office.

^V^

"Wait, so let me get this straight… there's no… Thanksgiving?"

I rolled my eyes at Dick as I turned my blinker on, barely making the exit for the airport amidst the traffic. Even though it was Sunday morning, everyone seemed to be fighting one another to flee the city, or those daring enough, were returning. Jim's flight was roughly a half of an hour from landing but I knew it was going to be a nightmare getting a decent spot in the pick-up lane.

"We are having dinner at our place," I explained, "You, me, Egg-man, Jim and Mattie and Nate. I invited Will and Ronna since his girls are going to be in New York with their mother. He said he would let me know by tomorrow, depends on how well the Jets played… or something ridiculous like that."

Dick shifted in his seat, contemplating his next question for over a minute. As I battled getting to the Terminal Five exit, he finally asked, "But who is going to cook?"

Ethan began to stir in the backseat of the Range Rover and without even looking over my shoulder, I knew he had dropped his Franklin the Turtle plush toy. After pointing it out to Dick, I replied, "_I_ am cooking. And Mattie."

Reaching back to hand our son his beloved possession, Dick smirked, "Oh... Well, then I can't wait."

Much like two years earlier, the Family was separated for Thanksgiving. Bruce and Selina had the entire week dedicated to various projects in the East End, highlighted by serving meals all day on Thursday. Mattie was still trying to convince them to let her help out as well but as of the last time I had spoken with Selina, both of the Wayne children were joining the Gordon clan for the holiday.

Not that being forbidden to do something had stopped Mattie before…

As a black Escalade cut us off, Dick said, "Well, what are Tim and Cass doing?"

I waited until we were moving again, albeit at three miles per hour, before responding, "Well, I asked Tim last night if they wanted to join us and he never answered."

"Did you ask him last night while he was walking the dog or while he was beating up no-good doers?"

Nodding, I admitted, "Both… But I have to call him later today anyway."

"Call him now," Dick then sat back, "Oh wait, some people get to sleep in on Sundays…"

I reached over and smacked him in the chest, "Shut it. I bought breakfast at IHOP."

"Big spender," he chided.

"After waiting in line for thirty minutes," I quickly added, "Yes, big spender."

He was silent again before responding, "Have I told you that I love you yet today?"

"You have now," I finally smiled at him.

Having officially returned to the guise of Nightwing, the final piece that had been missing from my husband's demeanor had returned. So had the late night quips on the comm. link, dinner leftovers never making it to the next day and his trying to sneak into bed without waking me. Although I enjoyed his return, it was evident that Tim and Cass were adapting to once more working alongside their cheerier counterpart, often asking me if I had any assignments that would lead him to Bludhaven.

Maybe I could make something up to lure them to share dinner with us…

"Oh Egg-man, what's the matter?" I heard Dick ask. Even having been returned his beloved turtle, he was still fussing in his car seat.

"Probably needs a diaper change after his breakfast of champions," I suggested as we halted in motionless traffic.

"Maybe he wants juice…" Dick reached into the back seat and began searching the diaper bag.

Glancing in the rear view mirror, I smirked and added, "Nope. That is a poop face if I've ever seen one."

When Dick sat upright in his seat, he sighed in defeat. I pointed out the glass double doors of the airport atrium, "There… the atrium for American Airlines. Men's room should be on the right side… We're certainly not going anywhere fast and if you hustle, I bet you could even hit up the coffee stand on your way back."

"But-."

A stern look later, I was alone in the car, listening to Ethan's compilation toddler CD and checking out flight updates on my Blackberry. Jim was still due to land right on time and after scoping out the weather application, I was pleased to find that it was actually going to be above freezing that afternoon. Snow was due later in the week, not more than two inches, but certainly enough to try out Ethan's new snow suit.

I took another few minutes to clean out both my personal and work in box. Dinah wanted to drop by at some point in the week, the JLA had a meeting on Wednesday and wanted my input on a new hacker and Selina had sent me a picture of Nathan with a chocolate milk mustache. Knowing Dinah was still making her way home from Paris after a one-woman mission and that it was too early for me to deal whomever was on monitor duty at the Watchtower, I was left with one choice for conversation.

Selina answered her cell on the third ring, her voice light and on the verge of laughter, "Good morning."

"Did I wake you?"

"No, I've been up for a while… been trying to summon the dead body beside me back to life… Physical assault and oxygen deprivation has failed, as have various shocking statements."

"Sleeping Beauty," I chided.

She sighed in defeat, "So far not even a lip twitch, and I even said I dyed my hair blond."

"You should try something about Mattie," I smirked.

"Good one… Hey, Bruce… Mattie snuck Terry into her room again… There's loud music… and-."

I heard a muffled, "Whuh?" on the other end and barely contained my snicker.

Selina continued, "Just kidding, dear," and then to me, "You picking Jim up?"

"Yeah," I sat back slightly, reluctantly putting the vehicle into park, "Should be landing soon, now it's a matter if I can get up to the arrival doorway."

"Hey, Bruce offered to fly him in."

I heard the muffled voice ask, "Offered to fly who in?"

She answered him before speaking to me, "Nothing, Deafman… So, were you able to rouse your husband this morning?"

"I did, after promising pancakes. He just ran in to change Ethan at the airport… just had the car detailed yesterday, kind of a shame to waste it already on diaper duty."

"Ah, the joy of traveling with babies, big and small… Well, speaking of big babies, I should make amends, I suppose. If you want to do dinner this week, I'm sure we can squeeze something in. Seeing how Thursday is a kind of a bust."

"Sure thing."

As I hung up, I spotted Dick approaching, Ethan sitting proudly on his father's shoulders. With the diaper bag strap crossing his chest, Dick had one hand securing Ethan and the other holding a small cardboard tray of white and blue coffee cups and a matching paper bag. I unlocked the door as he stepped off of the curb, leaning over to open it for him.

Dick handed over the coffee and treats while saying, "Amazing how quickly people let you jump to the front of the line when you have a baby."

"You didn't play the single father card, did you?" I rose my brow at him.

He cleared his throat before replying, "All I said was that I was alone… which technically was true. At the time."

I smirked as he shut his door before stepping around back of the vehicle. With the rear view mirrors, I watched as he loaded our toddler back into the car seat, "Whew, no wonder he was fussy. Any DVD's back here, looks like we're going to be here for a while."

"Should be in the pocket behind the passenger seat," I answered. After a beat, I found myself asking, "So… Has Tim said anything to you about telling Bruce, about the letter?"

"I don't know… I would imagine he would have by now," Dick replied as he popped in a disc into the system installed in the ceiling. Turning the volume up slightly, he hit play and shut the back door. By the time he made it to the front seat, I deduced that our child was watching The Rescuers. Dick had searched the internet for the last six months, collecting a cache of movies he had enjoyed as a child. His reasoning for the ridiculous Amazon bills was that he had wanted his son to experience entertainment beyond modern CGI films.

At least it gave me an opportunity to watch Fern Gully.

Once seated, he continued, "I mean, he knows dealing with Bruce is like taking off a bandage. The quicker you get it done with, the better. The longer you put it off, the more likely you'll end up crying."

I waited as he searched the paper bag and retrieved a small lemon square, breaking it in half and sending the small piece back to Ethan. When Dick ate the other half in one bite, I shook my head and noted, "He said he was going to do it all week long and then I called him on it last night… If did finally tell him, Bruce wouldn't been sleeping in."

"How do you know he's sleeping in?" After I rehashed my brief chat with Selina, he sighed, "Yeah… he definitely would not be indulging in a Lazy Sunday. I was thinking about heading up to the Manor later, after lunch. Get in a good work on the uneven bars and the rings… Maybe I'll knock some sense into Tim while I'm up there."

"Good idea." Before I could check to see if arrival times had changed in the last few minutes, the car in front of us moved and I pushed the shifter into drive, slowly inching along.

It may have been the first documented instance when Family drama had trumped Bat drama, but Tim had failed to inform Bruce of a letter he had received at the beginning of the month. Granted, it had taken nearly two weeks of combined work to verify the handwriting and origins and that it was in fact from Talia, but he still had not stepped up to the plate. I knew that it wasn't my position to say anything, but it was certainly not in my best interest for Bruce to be out of the loop.

I had last spoken to Tim about the matter the night before, briefly inquiring how it had gone with Bruce. He had been in the Cave, just closing up on the computer before calling it a night. He had hesitated before admitting that he was going to do it Sunday, after he worked work with Mattie. I had done my best to remain passive, but he must have sensed my apprehension on the monitor. Shaking his head, Tim had reached up and pulled on his damp hair briefly, "I know. It's stupid… I just… It doesn't mean anything. It certainly hasn't helped us pinpoint a location for her or Ra's… if he is even alive…"

"Never doubt the livelihood of an immortal environmentalist nut job."

He had sighed before adding, "I think I should tell Clark. At the JLA meeting."

"You're going to that?"

"I'm still a member, reserve status, but still…" he had paused to look directly up at my image, "If Ra's is alive, he's just as much of a threat to them as he is to us."

I had to bite down on my tongue to keep from replying that if he told the JLA before Bruce, it was not going to be a Happy Thanksgiving in Gotham for anyone.

A horn honk drew my attention the present and I slowly crept forward. Dick was rustling in the bag again, asking if I wanted to split a raspberry and white chocolate scone.

"No, coffee will do."

He opened the top for me and set it in the cup holder nearest me, "Maybe we should just tell him."

"We as in me, you mean?"

Dick nodded, "Well, at least we know if he gets angry at you, he's less likely to punch you in the face." When I didn't respond, he added, "What, too soon?"

"If you want to joke about it, go for it." It being the fact that earlier in the year when Huntress had been tortured to death by the Joker, Bruce had accused Dick of exposing the Family's identities to her. Although he had kept his cool for most of the feud, Dick had finally lost control of his tongue and accused Bruce of having as much blood on his own hands as he was accusing Dick of having. The disagreement ended promptly when Bruce knocked Dick to the ground with one punch, in perfect view of his eavesdropping daughter.

It was all in the past, I reminded myself.

My phone chirped and Dick retrieved it from the console, "Oh, look at that Ethan, Uncle Jim's landed safe and sound."

Despite the change in topic, I found myself pursuing the former, "If he doesn't tell him today, I think I will."

"Yeah?" Dick asked, his eyes intently staring at my Blackberry as he sent a message back to my brother.

"If he blows up about it, I'll tell him that… it was my idea, to wait until we had all of the facts."

"Going to lie to him, too? Ethan," he looked to the backseat, "Mommy is the bravest person in the whooooole world. Then again, it's not like he could possibly be any angrier than he was about the pill thing."

I smirked briefly before responding, "Like you said, what is he going to do to me? Yell at me?"

"And maybe cut you out of the will."

I glared at him before taking the first left to wait in line at the arrival bay. Thinking on how our mentor had barely cheated death earlier that year, I spoke softly, "Now, that… that is too soon to joke about."

^V^

I had told Barbara the truth.

For the better part of fifteen minutes prior to her call, I had been trying to wake Bruce up, something that was always a challenge on Sunday mornings. It was only made even more trying combining long hours in the city preparing for week long philanthropic activities with his daily one-hundred eighty milligrams of Phenobarbital.

Granted he had not had any seizures in the last few weeks, but it was nearly as bad seeing him as tired as he had been after the coma. Five nights out of the preceding week, he had gone to bed shortly after forcing himself to sit through dinner. Mattie had been worried, but I had been able to quell it by saying that at least he was taking in the initiative to rest.

Saturday night, he had arrived at the Manor a little after seven, seeming a bit livelier than he had all week. Having been coerced that morning before heading out, he had returned with pizza from the trattoria in Bristol. It was seemingly the only place Mattie and Nathan both agreed upon. Alfred had offered to retrieve the meal himself, but I had insisted he simply focus on getting ready for his night off with Leslie. Even my daughter had lending a hand, "Dad promised he would."

Thankfully, Bruce had remembered and then some. In addition to the customary pancetta and roasted pepper pizza, he had brought back samplings of fresh bruschetta, house salads and my personal favorite, the di mare platter full of tasty marinated seafood morsels and vegetables. He had even gone the extra mile with individual servings of gelato and sorbetto for everyone, including Alfred and Leslie, and was genuinely upset when he had found that they had already departed for the evening.

Even stranger still, Bruce had been more than willing to agree to Nathan's idea of having a picnic in the den instead of eating in the dining room. While the kids had sat on the floor, using the coffee table to eat off of whilst fighting over what to watch, Bruce and I had sat together on the couch. My suspicions grew when he had playfully stolen the remnants of my pizza crust, smirking while I had glared at him.

Obviously someone had brainwashed my husband.

I had waited until after dessert, where my willpower was tested even further after Bruce offered to help wash dishes with me. With the kids well out of earshot in the den, I hadn't so much as turned the tap water on to warm before snapping, "Did you skip your meds?"

"Absolutely not," he had replied, setting the plates on the counter beside the sink.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I had then glared up at him, "Did you overdose?"

He had stepped forward, showing no hesitation in wrapping his arms around me, "Nope."

"Nanobots?"

Leaning down, he had kissed my cheek before speaking into my ear, "No."

"Is it because Terry is going to Arizona for the school break?

A smirk had flashed over his lips before he had admitted, "Maybe a little bit…"

"Then what? What is going on?" I had demanded, still not yielding to his embrace.

"You're making a big deal out of noth-," he had started to say.

I stomped on the top of his sock clad foot before growling, "Bruce."

Releasing me, he had taken a step back towards safety, "I slept all afternoon in my office. Happy?"

"I thought you had meetings until five?"

He had sighed, leaning against the counter, "I did. Thankfully Lucius covered for me, said I had a family emergency. Not that an excuse like that is any better for the real reason… During meetings, everyone is empathetic but once the doors open, the rumor mills start spinning…"

It was then that I had approached him, slipping my arms around his waist, "Let them spin." I had paused before testing his playful mood, "Right round…"

"Stop it," he had uttered in a low growl.

"Right round, like a record, baby, right-."

He had cut me off with a kiss, one that was not cut short because of our mutually garlic tinged palates but by the sound of Mattie sighing at the doorway. When we broke apart, I had turned just in time to see her rolling her eyes. Knowing what she wanted already, I had still taken the time to ask, "What's up?"

"Can I go downstairs, Tim said he was going to be here at eight."

I had glanced at the wall clock to see it was ten of. "All right, not too late, we have to get up in the morning." Turning back to Bruce once she had left, I had stopped him from commenting, "Now, let's try and do the dishes in a civilized manner…"

After leaving the kitchen in its usual pristine condition, we had navigated back to the den to spend the remainder of the evening with Nathan. Even after a long day of playing outside at a friend's house and a massive dinner, he had been wide awake. I found myself yawning when he had asked if we could play Uno, forcing me to get coffee first. Bruce, having already put in a solid nap, was more than willing to play a few hands, even without the caffeine.

By nine, Alfred and Leslie had returned and I had used the opportunity to corral Nathan upstairs for a bath, leaving Bruce to check in with his ever watchful guardians. While my son staged epic aquatic toy battles, I had laid out his pajamas on the bed in addition to an outfit for the morning. Ace, who was far from a fan of baths, opted to lay at my feet instead of waiting on the tiled floor for his master.

He and Bruce were going to get haircuts in the morning while Mattie and I went to the salon. Although the children weren't going to be with us on Thanksgiving, they were still going to attend a number of charity events over the course of the week, ranging from book readings, coat and winter wear drives and a baking party at the women and children's shelter in Chelsea.

"Where's Mattie?"

I had called out to Nathan from his closet, "In her room, I think."

"Oh."

"You almost done?"

"Yeah... I guess," he had responded softly.

It wasn't long after that he had dried, dressed, brushed his teeth and was trying to do somersaults off of his bed and onto his exercise trampoline. Keeping watch so he didn't crack his head open, I had sat on the edge of the bed, also making sure to give him ample warning when his father approached. After fifteen minutes of waiting, I had risen to my feet, "All right, wild child, let's get started…"

"Where's Dad?"

"Downstairs talking to Leslie and Alfred."

"About what?" Nathan had asked, climbing onto his bed once more.

"Not sure, kiddo… probably just making a plan for this week."

He had patiently sat beside me for the better part of forty minutes, helping me read through the pages of The BFG. It had actually been the tattered paperback copy that Bruce had read during his recovery from amnesia fourteen years earlier, a book he and Mattie had read countless times each since. No matter how many time my eyes had graced the worn pages, it had still brought a smile to my lips. Where Mattie had grown to take an interest in other books, Nathan had seemed to stick with Roald Dahl classics, including Matilda, The Witches and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.

I was thankful for that as I had no intention of sitting through all of the Harry Potter books again…

With Nathan finally starting to drift, I took over reading: " 'Do you like vegetables?' Sophie asked, hoping to steer the conversation towards a slightly less dangerous kind of food.

" 'You is trying to change the subject,' the Giant said sternly. 'We is having an interesting babblement about the taste of the human bean. The-'."

Bruce had finished softly from the door, " 'The human bean is not a vegetable.'."

Putting the bookmark in place, I had set it on the night stand before leaning over to kiss Nathan's brow, being sure this blankets were pulled up to his chin. He had been a trooper dealing with Strep throat, even happy that the illness had made his voice raspy like a growl. Bruce had stepped into the room briefly to kiss him goodnight as well, letting me lead the way into the hall after shutting off the lights.

Unlike his son, once Bruce had made it to the bedroom, fatigue had been quick to settle in. I had suggested a bath, but he had declined, opting instead for a change into cotton pajama pants, rubbing liniment on his leg and popping back his night meds with a glass of water. Reclining beside him in the dark, I had asked what had taken him so long to come upstairs but he hadn't responded. I had to remind myself that he had taken his hearing aides out.

As soft snores began to escape his lips, I had decided to leave it be until morning.

Of course when morning came, prince charming was still out like a light…

After waking him during my chat with Barbara, I blatantly leaned over him to put my phone on his nightstand, pressing my hand down on his chest for balance. When I moved to lay beside him again, I had a smirk on my lips where his were wrapped in a grimace.

"What time is it?" he grumbled, his eyes deceptively alert despite the groggy look on his face.

"Eight," I answered him. Still under the covers, I snuggled in closer, resting my chin on his shoulder so I could speak directly into his ear, "Also known as time to get up."

"Don't have to be in the city until two," he sighed before clearing his throat.

I pushed myself to lay on my stomach, baring weight on my elbows in order to count off as I listed, "It will take you an hour to actually get up and moving. Breakfast for thirty minutes, you'll exercise for an hour and a half, another half of an hour to shower and get dressed, hair appointment is at noon and that will be half an hour at best, then an hour and half to get to Midtown…" I kissed his rough cheek before stating, "So, I woke you exactly on time."

He glared at me for a moment and then sighed, wrapping a bare arm around my shoulders and pulling me closer, "Start the clock. One more hour of sleep."

"Fifty-nine minutes, actually…" After ten minutes, I spoke into his ear, "What did Leslie say last night?"

"Shhh," he said without moving.

"Are you… shushing me?"

"No, dear," his eyes opened and he looked down at my face, "Please… let's talk for a long time."

"I'm serious."

He inhaled slowly before responding, "Nothing. A surprise. For you."

"You are in cahoots… with Leslie… about a surprise… for me?" rolling my eyes, I replied while trying to slip away from him, "You were better off shushing me."

Ensnaring me and pulling me tight to his chest, Bruce smirked, the gesture belying the look in his eyes. After a beat, he finally said, "In addition to sleeping all afternoon… I… had new radiographs done on my leg."

"Why, what's wrong?" I asked without hesitating. I hadn't noticed him favoring the limb but then again he and I spent so much time apart during the day and at night he had been going to bed early…

"-another surgery," was all I heard him say.

"Wait, what?"

Letting me go, he proceeded to explain that he had seen his orthopedic specialist for a check up, including routine radiographs to note the changes in bone formation and to make sure the plates and pins were in proper alignment. After an hour of lengthy debate, Bruce had agreed with the specialist to undergo a third surgery, one that would allow him to walk up steps in relative comfort. He had been walking down stairs for some time but ascension remained to be too troublesome for the effort involved.

"Think of it… as an early Christmas gift."

I remained speechless for a minute, trying to come to terms with the fact that it was the reason he had been in such a good mood the night before. But where he had previously kept secrets from me for weeks and even months, he had barely held it to himself for a night. No, he had discussed it with Leslie and possibly even Alfred. If it had been a secret, he wouldn't have uttered a word to anyone and would have had all records of the plan encrypted and stowed away.

Without warning, I blatantly asked, "Why now? Why after being such a stubborn fool for so long…"

Bruce didn't hesitate in replying, "It's personal."

"Which means it's for a sentimental reason…" I found myself leaning in closer, hovering my lips above his, "And I think I know what it is."

"Oh?"

I kissed him softly, "You want to walk up and down the stairs."

"Well, ideally, even after the surgery I shouldn't walk three flights-."

I shook my head, "Not those stairs, my love." When he didn't reply, I inquired, "Am I right?"

Something sad happened to his eyes, the firm veil he held against the world had faltered. A blink later, the gaze was back to normal and he started to sit up, gently pushing me off of him. Swinging his legs over the edge of the mattress, he roused the sleeping ball of fur at the end of the bed. When Kitten had leapt to the floor, Bruce cleared his throat, "Probably, should get a head start…"

As he stiffly rose from the bed, I called out, "Bruce, I didn't mean anything by it…"

He ignored me, promptly limping to the bathroom and shutting the door behind him.

"Smooth, Selina," I sighed to myself, "Real smooth."

^V^

There were three parts to the muscle up maneuver on the still rings.

Being one of the more difficult training exercises, I often put it late into a routine, limbering up my joints and getting my arms, torso and legs to work as one. As a child, I had trained on rings religiously, my father always standing by with a smile of pride on his face. I had even convinced him to make me a pair that I could hang from the roof of our mobile home so that I could practice on the road between shows.

The first step was the pull-up, moving from hanging vertically from the rings so that my head was between them, elbows bent and my body slightly leaning backwards. The transition was always the hardest, even before I had taken a .50 caliber bullet to the shoulder. Inhaling slowly, I forced air out my mouth as I proceeded to push myself up even further, locking my elbows once they were straight. It allowed me to maintain the position properly with my hips between the rings. I gave myself a moment to inhale once more before completing the drill with the dip, carefully bending my arms back in order to push my body forward and down until I was back to the starting position.

I was on the fifth one before I realized I had an audience.

"Hey, monkey," I said, briefly looking down at Mattie as she stood on the mats ten yards away.

"Who are you calling a monkey?"

I completed a sixth muscle up before allowing myself to drop to the ground, instinctively rotating my shoulders and loosening my arms with a few shakes. "Good point… did you… do something to your hair?"

She nodded and gently fluffed the straightened dark hair, of which was at least three inches shorter than when I had seen her last. Mattie then shrugged, "Trying something new. Mom said she once chopped all of her hair off."

"She most certainly did…" I snickered, "I like it, tres chic."

"Merci," she curtsied before asking, "Are you staying long?"

"Yeah, figured I can get more done here than at the Clocktower. That and I haven't beat up Tim in a while."

"You've never beat me up," she pointed out.

I raised an eyebrow at her, "Was that an invitation?" When her smile grew, I nodded, "Go change. And bring grip gloves."

"Not boxing gloves?"

"I would hate to have to hit my little sister," I set a hand on her shoulder, leaving behind grip chalk on her dark blouse, "So I'll have to find another way to beat you up."

While she headed back up to the costume vault to change, I followed her to get a water bottle from the mini-fridge. Taking a seat in the chair before the computer display, I called out, "Is your Dad upstairs?"

"No," she paused before adding, "He and Mom left already for the city."

"Know when they'll be back?"

She answered, "Mom said they would be back by six, I think."

"Damn," I muttered to myself, thinking I was due back at the Clocktower by five so Babs could go grocery shopping. She wanted to have a feast of both Jim Senior and Junior's favorites throughout the week and needed to prepare accordingly. Leaning as far back as the chair would go, I said, "That's a bummer. Seems like I keep missing him, lately."

"Yeah, he's been pretty busy," I barely heard her say.

"Well, it's only going to get worse…" a voice said from behind. I spun the chair around while sitting upright to see Tim approaching, "I just got the itinerary for the Sun Rises in the East End thing. I doubt any of us will see him until New Year's."

"I get dibs on his stocking at Christmas," I smirked while getting to my feet, noting he had dressed just as Mattie for the day. Thankfully, he substituted the junior miss midnight blue blouse for a black cotton Henley. Intentionally, I roughly patted the sutures concealed by his right sleeve, enjoying his grimace a little too much.

On my first official night back in the black and blue, he had incidentally been subject to a gunshot wound while we intercepted members of the Blu Flu gang. When we had made it back to the Cave, Alfred had agreed to stitch him up, but the fee had been a stern lecture for both of us. Namely along the lines on how he was too old to be up all hours of the night and that we were both too old to be playing decoy for one another. We had both sheepishly apologized, belying our ages with the voices of ten-year-old boys.

Tim had given himself one day off from work and one night off to recuperate. Will had only asked if our co-worker was all right once and after being assured that it was only a flesh wound, he had asked if we could watch Monty Python in the conference room. Before heading out for my second night, I had made the trek to Bristol to not only steal the Batmobile, but to also check up on and to pick on Tim. In lieu of a get well card, I had raided the local pharmacy for the most random items, including a hemorrhoid pillow, a Hanson CD and a few bags of clearance Halloween candy.

At least Cass had been grateful for the candy.

Tim stepped towards the chair, taking a seat while asking, "How's Jim?"

"Good," I answered, opting to lean against the work station counter top, "Babs is helping him make Christmas cards with pictures of Sarah… Ridiculously cute in this little silver dress and angel wings… I said we should do one as well, but put Ethan in like… red spandex with a tail and horns…"

I watched as Tim fought a smirk before replying, "Nothing says _Tis the Season _like Baby Devil."

"Toddler Devil. Baby Devils just lay there. Toddlers know how to open your dresser drawers and pull all of the clothes out so that Frank can sleep on them…"

He smiled at that but didn't say anything.

Before I could ask him if he had made up his mind about Thanksgiving, I spotted Mattie approaching. Her new do was pulled back tightly in a bun, a few chaotic strands fighting to break free. She had traded the blouse and fitted jeans for black leggings that cut off at her calves and a purple three quarter sleeve cotton shirt.

After she paused beside Tim, Mattie sighed, "Good, I thought Dick was talking to himself."

"Where did you learn such wiseassery?" I asked.

"From the best," she beamed up at me.

"Now you're just sucking up…"

Mattie stuck her tongue out at me for a fraction of a second before looking to Tim, "Was Cass coming, too?"

He nodded as he began tapping at the keyboard, "She lost the coin toss this morning… when she's done with laundry she'll be over. And she's going to stay with you and Nathan later so Alfred and Leslie can go into the city."

"I wish I could go," she sighed.

Tim looked away from the screen for a moment, "You're going down Wednesday, right?" When she confirmed it, he continued, "Well, Cass and I are going to be helping with the winter clothes drive, we're going to be going around in a van and collecting from random places… Maybe you can go with us… Just clear it with the big guy."

"Can you put in a good word for me?" Mattie started blinking dramatically.

Tim smirked and went back to working on the computer, "I'll try."

I cleared my throat before saying, "All right, why don't you go warm up… stretches, toe hops, handstand pop-ups, lunges-."

She rolled her eyes at me, "I think I know how to warm-up."

As she walked down to the training bay, I sighed as I looked up to the monitor. He was just bringing up scuttle files for the most part, namely weather forecasts, traffic cameras and police activity logs. Nothing of major importance.

Nothing of major eco-terrorizing global dictatorship importance…

"Again with the wiseassery," I said softly.

Tim shook his head without looking away from the monitor, "She learned it from the best."

"Speaking of the best… What did Bruce ever say about Talia's letter?"

That drew his eyes towards me, albeit in a glare, "Subtle, Dick. Did Barbara tell you?"

"Tell me what, bro?"

Tim promptly rose from the chair and walked towards the vault, forcing me to follow him for my answer. I paused beside the rack of grapple guns and rappelling equipment as he forcibly pulled his shirt off, letting it fall to the grated flooring. I was about to apologize but he growled softly, "You know… it's bad enough as it is… hating myself… I don't need your help."

"Hating yourself? Over a stupid letter?"

He spun to face me, "No… not over… not over that." Without clarifying, he proceeded to remove his jeans in order to don his own pair of leggings. Instead of putting on a tunic to cover the gunshot wound on his right bicep, he opted for a sleeveless shirt. His own red badge of courage… or perhaps of something else.

Finally facing me again, he said, "I haven't told him because… every single time I've involved him since he stepped down has completely backfired. He's knocked on death's door more times in the seven years after he's retired than the seven that preceded it. If there is anyone out there that is a bigger threat than the Joker was… it's Ra's. And if Bane is involved-."

I stepped forward, "We don't know that."

There was a look of defeat in his eyes, one similar to when we had gone up to the Watchtower to secure the Family. A look that had no place on my friend's face, especially as he admitted, "Exactly, we don't know… we don't know anything."

I let my thoughts pass through my lips, "He's been off the grid for almost two decades. If the Secret Six finally had enough of him, then good riddance. He waited his whole life to get to Bruce the first time, there's no way he would wait that long again."

I heard Mattie call out something from the training bay, followed by loud chimpanzee noises.

"We'll talk later, okay?"

He nodded, not making a verbal commitment making it an easier agreement to break.

Although Mattie and I worked on the gymnastic equipment, focusing intently on the parallel bars and the balance beam, Tim had opted to unleash his frustration in the weight area and on the sandbags. I kept an eye on him as I coached Mattie through both new routines and helped her tune up those already in her repertoire. She was still active on the gymnastic team at school, but her sub-par instructor had nothing on me.

Eventually, Cass arrived and was quick to limber up with floor exercises before taking my young sister along for some katas and shadow boxing. Mattie had thanked me for my time but said that she was far from beaten. After I gave her a Wet Willie and tripped her to the matted floor, pinning her down to zubert her neck and cheeks, she had said otherwise.

It was approaching four by the time I showered and changed back into my jeans, gray hooded sweatshirt and blue down vest. Knowing the commute back would be much longer than the one out, I bid my adieu to Cass and Mattie and then sought Tim out. I found him at the computer again, diligently screening through missing person, BOLO and APB reports that had been filed in the last twenty-four hours. Instead of starting things up again, I stole a Snickers bar out of the refrigerator under the workstation, and offered, "Halfsies?"

He stared at the screen for a moment longer before nodding, "Well, I'm not going anywhere for a while."

"That's the spirit."

The trek upstairs regrettably did not lead to crossing paths with Alfred. Uninhibited, I proceeded to the service entrance and out to the parking area behind the garage. As expected, the drive back was aggravating at the very least. I called ahead to let Babs know I was going to be a little late and she responded with, "Time management, Grayson, it's an important life skill."

"So is tickling my little sister."

She snickered into the phone before admitting, "All right, tardiness accepted."

Stepping through the door at a little passed five, I was greeted with soft voices and mouthwatering aromas. Following them both to the kitchen, I spotted Jim at the small kitchen table and Ethan nearby in his high chair. Both were acting as taste testers while Babs diligently worked at the counter on the other side of the room. Ethan was the first to spot me, announcing my arrival with a squeal, "Dahie!"

Jim then looked as well, "Hope you're hungry."

"Hi," I offered my hand to him, "My name is Dick, I don't think we've met before…"

Jim chuckled at that as I took a seat opposite of him, observing the small plate of goodies on the table between us. Little pastry cups were filled with a variety of cheeses, chopped vegetables and one even appeared to have hot sauce, bits of chicken and blue cheese.

Sampling a cheddar and broccoli one, I looked to Babs, "Oh man… I would have driven faster if I knew these were waiting…"

She turned to look at me over her shoulder, "Well, they haven't been waiting too long for you… Ethan decided he was going to nap two hours too early, so he and Jim ended up going with me to the grocery store."

"That's my boy," I smiled before popping a chicken wing filled one into my mouth. I offered Ethan a sip of his juice box and he made the sign language for "more" by joining his fingers to points on both hands and tapping the ends together. "Good job, pal. More." After another sip of juice, I broke up a cooler treat filled with quiche and put the pieces on the tray before my son.

Jim noted, "You like the appetizers, wait until dessert."

"Oh?" I inquired, arching both eyebrows as high as they would go, "Do tell, Chef Barbara Louise, what is on the menu for this evening?"

Jim laughed quietly at that but Babs chose to glare at me, "Nothing for you if you say my middle name again."

When I blew her a kiss, Jim chuckled a bit louder, "Did you aim it her ass?"

"Jim!" she exclaimed, pointing at Ethan as I laughed right along with my brother-in-law.

Even though we caused a ruckus, Barbara still treated us to the first of many fine meals for the week. A favorite of their late father's, we dined on fried fish and smashed chips, rough cut cole slaw and the remaining bite sized pastry cups. To top it off, Barbara had created homemade Guinness and caramel ice cream, dressed with crumbled shortbread cookies.

I had joked while clearing the table that come Thanksgiving dinner, Jim and I would be trained to well enough to take the meal head on.

Ethan had incidentally repeated the last part, although in his garbled toddlerese, it had sounded like _hard on_. To which Jim quickly offered that at least he didn't say ass.

After which Ethan had proudly repeated _ass_.

Before Barbara could say a word, I said, "Guess it's time spell words backwards."

Still glaring at me, she asked, "You think, s-s-a-b-m-u-d?

^V^

As Thursday morning arrived, Master Bruce was miraculously still capable of smiling.

Sunday afternoon had been delegated to an informal luncheon held at one of the newly renovated recreation centers where all of the volunteers and workers that had helped over the last month were rewarded for their community spirit. Aside from an endless collection of hot and cold sandwiches and beverages, soups, salad and baked goods, there had been a number of activities scheduled. Free long-sleeved and polo shirts showcasing the logo of the program were distributed, countless youth and teen activities were available and there were a wide spectrum of door prizes.

Ms. Selina had reported that Master Bruce had shaken hands and spoken with easily over two hundred people, most of which had taken their picture with him on their cellular phones.

The following day had been dedicated to blood drives at all public high schools in the city. Schools in the east end had also offered free health physicals and flu shots to students and their immediate families. With Miss Mattie and Master Nathan in Bristol for school and extracurricular activities, I was able to spend the entire day volunteering at PS 141, aiding in both the blood draw efforts and health check-ups. Master Bruce and Ms. Selina were randomly visiting as many schools as they could during the course of the day, finally making it to our location at four in the afternoon. Although he was exhausted, he had remained until well passed six, speaking with students about applying for internships, scholarships and work study programs following graduation.

Tuesday had focused on painting interiors and working on the remodeling efforts of a sub-par Boys and Girls club. I had bowed out gracefully in order to recuperate from Monday's activities, graciously taking my leave in order to tend to the Manor and take care of the children. Master Bruce and Ms. Selina had also been joined by Master Dick and Tim as well as Mr. Cutting and Gordon, gladly donating their day for the good of the project.

Since their parents had remained in the city to have dinner with the volunteers that night, I had spent time with Miss Mattie and Master Nathan whilst waiting for their return. We had watched the evening news together, catching a five minute segment covering the project's progress. There had even been a brief interview with Master Bruce, who had a smudge of white paint on his cheek and a broad smile on his face. He had made it a point to thank everyone who had contributed, no matter how great or small, and urged for others to join. "You know, we have the website up and running, … you can look up our schedule and locations of volunteer efforts and also there are still a few employment opportunities open, anything from public relations, couriers, grant writers right down to electricians, contractors, plumbers, CDL drivers… "

The off screen reporter had asked, "And what do you have in store tomorrow?"

Master Bruce had nodded curtly before answering, "Tomorrow is our winter clothes drive. New or used coats, hats, boots, mittens, sweaters, scarves, you name it. Anything from little toddler snowsuits up to adult wear. Our goal is to have not a single person east of the river having to stand out in the cold this winter without proper attire."

"A noble goal, Mr. Wayne, one we at NBC5 sincerely hope you meet."

"Certainly appreciate it… but for now… I have some more painting to do."

The camera had then cut to Master Bruce and Ms. Selina helping color bands of various hues of white and blue, pulling back to show more than a dozen others working on a side of the newly floored gymnasium. The look on Miss Mattie's face said she couldn't have been prouder, but Master Nathan had only managed to say, "I want to paint."

With the children off of school for the remainder of the week, Master Bruce had agreed that they would volunteer on Wednesday and Friday, leaving them to celebrate Thanksgiving with Master Dick, Ms. Barbara and Mr. Gordon. Master Nathan had only balked at the schedule briefly where Miss Mattie continuously tried to convince her father otherwise. To keep from badgering Master Bruce, she had been directed to spend the day with her mentors, driving around collecting clothes from drop boxes and local businesses. Master Nathan had likewise spent the day with Master Dick, acting as a ruler to determine clothes and items meant for the above and under six year old group.

While they had worked diligently in the city, I had remained home a second time in order to prepare a substitute Thanksgiving dinner. As with the year that Commissioner Gordon had succumbed to cancer, the Family was segregated for the holiday. And very much like two years earlier, I wasn't about to let it stop them from coming together. The charitable efforts over the course of the week had certainly sealed in a wonderful spirit in both young and old, one I wasn't about to let pass unnoticed.

Knowing Ms. Barbara intended to prepare turkey the following day, I had opted for a honey glazed ham, trimmed with stuffing, cranberry orange salsa, roasted potatoes, Parmigianino baked parsnips and buttery croissants. Miss Mattie had desired to return home early enough to help, but I had assured her that Leslie would aide in the preparations. However, she had forced me to agree that, at the very least, she would prepare dessert.

Alone in the Manor, Leslie and I had taken the opportunity to discuss Master Bruce's revelation that he had divulged Saturday evening. The orthopedic appointment had disclosed a number of small bone spurs that would only impede what remained in his recovery. It hadn't been entirely unexpected given the severe nature of the injury, but what had been surprising was that he had opted not to have the spurs simply removed. Instead, Master Bruce had intended to have further work done on the joint itself in order to restore a fraction more of mobility.

He had also asked that we not tell anyone, wanting to do so at his own pace.

Leslie and I had discussed the matter a number of times over the course of the week, mostly theorizing on why he had changed his stance on the subject. Since May, he had refused to even consider further surgical intervention, having come to terms with the fact that nothing would ever bring back the full use of his leg. Despite our efforts to persuade him otherwise and his wife's persistent threats, he hadn't so much as given it a second thought.

It had been as Leslie sliced potatoes that she suggested, "I would bet anything that it has to do with Mattie. Her… training."

Leslie had no qualms about voicing her thoughts on another young member of the Family joining the ranks of vigilantism. Granted, Miss Mattie's tutelage had developed into an extremely lengthy and thorough process, it had only been fueling a fire the young girl had started on her own. Not only had she literally created her own guise whilst the Joker ran the streets, she had run away to the city to fight crime on her own and had even escaped the Watchtower in order to help fight alongside Miss Cassandra and Master Bruce. Her skills were improving exponentially, as was the young girl's drive to once more race through the night, shedding her chance at a normal life for the one she was born into.

"Master Bruce has diligently offered his insight into her education, albeit not of late."

"He wants to be more active in her training… I would prefer he did this for his own desire to better himself."

I had been checking the parsnips as they sizzled on the tray above the ham. After closing the door, I had turned to face her, "Master Bruce has never done anything that benefited himself, he has also acted on the behalf of others."

Setting the knife down, she had looked up at me, "Well, he needs to start thinking about himself. He thinks he can ignore what's happened, that he can will it to go away… He can't push himself like that anymore… and yet he does."

After approaching her, I had gently set my hands on her thin shoulders, "Perhaps this surgery will offer a time to rest, a time to reflect. Just as it did earlier this year."

Leslie had smirked sadly as she looked up at me, "Hopefully."

Not an hour later, three cars had ascended the drive, followed promptly be a whirl of activity in the service atrium. Master Nathan had been the first to emerge, running by the kitchen archway and disappearing into the corridor in search of his dog. Miss Mattie and Cassandra had appeared next, carrying in a paper bag that they had promptly written in marker _Do not open _before storing it in the refrigerator. After declining their offers to assist, they had also proceeded to the hallway.

The next individuals to appear had been Master Dick, his young child seated upon his shoulders. After him had been Mr. Gordon who had been carrying a vibrant bouquet of autumn hued lilies, roses, daisies, hypericum berries and cattails. Leslie had graciously accepted them, standing up to kiss his clean shaven cheek before going about putting them in a vase. He had a considerable amount of resemblance to his late father and if had chosen to grow a mustache, it would have been near perfect resemblance. I often mused that it had been a shame that his mother had absconded with him at such a young age and that it had taken so long for father and son to reunite.

At least he had taken the opportunity to do so, however brief,

Ms. Barbara had also appeared, followed by Master Tim carrying stacked trays of various hors d'ouerves. Upon appraising them, I had been please to see sausage and potato puffs, bagel chips with cheese and prosciutto, hazelnut profiteroles and slivers of walnut biscotti. As a means of luring the others out of the kitchen, I had quickly arranged the morsels on platters, assigning each young man with one to carry to the den where plates, napkins and hot and cold cider waited.

When silence had finally found the room, Master Bruce and Ms. Selina appeared. I had a glass of water on the ready in addition to his early evening medications. Although he had thanked me, it had taken a considerable amount of effort given his exhausted state. After watching him down the pills, I had suggested he rest as dinner had still been an hour away. He had nodded as his wife had rubbed his back, "We'll go upstairs for a while… come back down later."

We had postponed serving dinner as late as possible to give Master Bruce ample time to recover but with hungry mouths outnumbering exhausted ones, I had made the executive decision to go ahead without him. After I had started things in motion, I had left Leslie to oversee the dinner, making sure nary a plate remained empty for long. Taking the elevator, I had headed directly to the third floor, briskly walking to the master bedroom's double doors. Opening them, I had expected to find Master Bruce and Ms. Selina on the bed, resting after a long day.

What I had found instead was my eldest charge on the floor, his head resting in his wife's lap as she gently ran her fingers through his hair, talking to him softly. With him facing her abdomen, I had only been granted observation of his backside as it rose and fell with heavy breaths, his limbs laying still and painfully unnatural.

A result of ignoring his limits prior to his fall in April had been a foul mood, a short temper and actions he would regret in secret.

Following the cranial fracture he had endured and the three surgeries required to attend to the damage, ignoring his limits resulted in tonic-clonic seizures.

Without looking up at me, Ms. Selina had sighed, "Almost made it to the bed."

"How long has it been?" I had inquired softly, suddenly becoming aware of the lines of mascara that had mixed with her tears.

"Fifteen minutes… It wasn't that bad of an episode… He's just so tired…" she had leaned over and kissed his temple before sitting upright again, "I told him we should have gone home early… He just wouldn't listen."

After approaching, I had taken a seat on the edge of the bed to her right, "Pardon for being so bold, madam, but when has he ever listened to what is best for him?"

She had laughed sadly at the remark, "That's true."

He had regained consciousness ten minutes later, although he was unable to communicate properly for another eight. After helping him change and settle into bed, I had been able to convince Ms. Selina to join the others. She had taken a moment to wash up and reapply her makeup before pausing at the bed to kiss Bruce's still face, "I'll be back."

"Go," he had whispered, "Eat."

Another kiss to his brow and she had felt certain enough to leave him in my care.

An hour had passed before he had said a word to me, "Is it worth it?" When I hadn't replied immediately he posed his question again.

"My apologies, sir. I did hear your initial inquiry… Although, admittedly, I was in shock over your sudden interest into my personal thoughts on the matter."

Still groggy from postictal sleep, he had found the willpower to glare at me.

"I must pose my own question first, sir. Does it refer to pushing yourself to the brink or does it refer to engaging in a third surgery on your leg?"

There had been a long pause before he had admitted, "Both."

I had in turn offered the same pause before responding, "As for the latter, I feel it is undoubtedly the right path. There is no need for you give up on something so trivial given all of the decades you have spent fighting. As for the former… Leslie believes you are ignoring the changes in your life, but I see it in another light, Master Bruce."

He had blinked at me slowly, urging me to continue.

After resting my hand on his, I had proceeded, "I believe you have accepted them, you have learned to work around them. And when you feel it is necessary, you use them to punish yourself. For two decades, you helped this city in a way that no other could have imagined… and now, you must help in a different way, one which has no hope of sating your desire, your need to fight."

When he remained silent, I had added, "It is my wish, sir, that after all you have endured, that you are still capable of finding the balance of when to fight… and when to accept."

Master Bruce had not attended dinner, prompting Miss Mattie to bring him small portions of the meal. Her brother had arrived with a dessert plate of the white chocolate and sweet potato cake, the one his sister and Ms. Cassandra had hidden. He had thanked them, assuring each he would eat later after he had rested. Upon Ms. Selina's arrival, I had left him in his family's care, returning to the ground floor to make an attempt at spreading holiday cheer.

Thursday morning, I was diligently preparing a breakfast of ham and vegetable omelets, doing what I could to make use of the leftovers from the night before. Children's laughter sounded down the corridor and I prepared to greet my young charges with a warm welcome. They each wished me a Happy Thanksgiving before offering to help make the remnants of breakfast. As I assigned them to warm the leftover croissants in the oven and to work together making fresh juice, I was surprised to see another figure passing through the archway.

"Good morning, Master Bruce."

After offering me a smile, he replied, "It certainly is, Alfred."

^V^

Having been invited to dine with the Gordon and Grayson clan and to volunteer to serve meals all afternoon in the East End, Cass and I decided on both.

Although it had regrettably required an early start.

Cass graciously allowed me to sleep in until eight-thirty before enticing Robbie to jump on me. As he feverishly licked my face, I slowly came to, mumbling something about doggy dental care. When I didn't immediately rise, Cass promptly ripped the blankets off of my sleepy form, announcing that she needed to wash them. Robbie, giving up on washing my face, settled on the bed beside me, sniffing under the pillows.

"Trust me, pal, if there were treats under there, I would know."

Finally getting up, I shuffled across the room and languidly went about showering and shaving. We had returned from patrols a little after three, but I had ended up working in the Cave until nearly five. My intention had been to gauge Bruce's mood during dinner at the Manor in order to decided whether or not I should grow a pair and come clean. Seeing how he had headed straight up to bed upon returning from the city, I never had the chance to.

Obviously, it was not the night to confess my shortcomings as his predecessor…

Knowing we would be traversing from the middle upper class of Tri-corner to the lower class of the East End, I had opted for fairly casual attire. Scuffed leather shoes, dark blue jeans and a blue and white checked long sleeved shirt under a dark blue sweater. Pulling out the collar and the ends made me look like I was right back in college, frighteningly eight years ago…

Grabbing my wallet, watch and cell phone, I called Robbie off of the bed and raced him down the stairs, winning by a good margin given the dog's clumsiness. We found Cass in the kitchen, spooning dollops of peanut butter onto slices of bananas. She had also gone a casual route, wearing jeans, a white blouse and an unbuttoned charcoal cardigan. But where I had donned my shoes, she was still wearing fuzzy gray knit slippers.

"That looks good," I remarked while approaching her.

She ate one, raising her eyebrows for emphasis as she tried to talk through the peanut butter, "Id is gooh."

"What was that?" I smirked.

Swallowing, she repeated herself, "It is good." She retrieved one for herself and another for me, "Open wide." I ate it from her fingers, smiling once peanut butter was appropriately smashed over my incisors. Cass laughed and handed me her glass of milk, "Okay, now you ruined it."

"What, do I have something on my teeth?" I asked with as much deadpan as I could muster.

I finished the remaining slices, even giving one to Robbie after he quietly sat by, not even breathing as to focus purely on begging. There was no need to make anything else to eat since Cass and I were going to indulge in one of our joint guilty pleasures: deep fried French Toast sticks from the drive-thru. Most mornings, we rode the train into the city for work, making it impossible to detour for the disgustingly delicious treat.

While Cass sought out her shoes, I let Robbie out and packed up his crate, dog bed, toys, dinner and bowls. Everyone else in our family had children, but it was just as much of a chore taking care of a dog. He honestly had the same amount of toys as Ethan, mostly because every time either one of us bought his dog food, we found ourselves arriving at the cashier with an unnecessary armful of new toys. At least when you told Robbie to put his toys away, he willingly picked them up and dropped them off in his wicker basket in the den.

I'd like see a kid do that without complaining.

Our first stop was for gas and the second was for French Toast sticks and coffee. From there, I quickly navigated into the city, the holiday making for more traffic heading out as opposed to going in. Before volunteering the middle part of our day away, we headed to the Clocktower to hang out with Dick, Barbara and Jim and to get our fill of Ethan playtime.

What never ceased to amaze was that as big and goofy as Robbie was, he was an absolute doll with Ethan, letting the toddler practically torture him. Frank was thankful for the surrogate plaything and opted to sit safely in Barbara's lap. No doubt when Ethan went down for a nap, he and Robbie would resume their never ending feud, one that Dick had joked was the result of their arguing who had the flatter face.

With Barbara and Cass in the kitchen getting a head start on dinner, both refusing help from the lesser male species, I remained sequestered in the den, watching pre-game football reports. Growing up I had loved the sport but in the last decade, it had tragically fallen to the wayside, with my favorite players losing themselves to scandals or nonstop team swapping. All part of growing up too fast, I mused.

Shortly after ten-thirty, the doorbell rang and I lost paper-scissor-rock and had to get up to answer it. As expected, it was Bruce and Selina there to drop off the kids along with goodies Mattie had whipped up that morning seeing how Barbara had made the same effort the day before. As Mattie and Selina fled to the kitchen, Nathan and Bruce followed me to the den. It was only then that I realized Bruce had brought along his rarely used cane, something he only relied on in public. The Clocktower was anything but and I couldn't help but wonder if it was simply to get in the mood or if he actually needed it.

His absence at dinner hadn't been explained by either Selina or Alfred beyond the fact that he was tired…

Nathan quickly greeted Jim and pet Robbie's head before jumping on Dick's lap in an effort to beat up his much older sibling. Bruce opted to stand quietly next to the recliner I had been sitting in, watching his son carefully. I offered him to sit, but he shook his head, "We're not staying long… And Nate, that's enough."

"He can take it, Dad, he's all better," Nathan defended his actions while patting Dick's head.

"Yeah, Dad," Dick joined in, "I'm all better."

"That's enough," Bruce repeated himself, something we had never been given the liberty of while growing up.

Sighing, the boy slipped off of Dick's lap and settled in beside him on the couch. Not wanting to have Bruce as the only one standing, I remained on my feet, "I think Cass and I are working on Conklin Ave with Alfred and Leslie. You and Selina going there?"

He nodded, shifting his weight off of his left leg, "For a few hours, then we're going to Hudson Street. The mayor is supposed to make an appearance… they want a photograph of us slicing turkey or something ridiculous."

I smiled at that, knowing Bruce was working to actually help the community where the mayor only wanted points to help him get re-elected the following year.

Selina appeared shortly after, bidding farewell to Nathan and Ethan with kisses and smacks upside the head for Dick and myself. When she faced Jim, he warily said, "Not sure if I should duck or pucker up…"

She swatted him and opted to kiss Bruce before leading him away.

Cass and I stayed long enough to sample the goodies Mattie had brought and to make a timely exit after Ethan had a little toddler meltdown over not being allowed to hold his juice box. Before heading out, we set up Robbie's crate in the guest room and took him and Frank for a walk. Returning the two brachial cephalic dogs, we returned to the ground floor, battling traffic as we made our way to the East End.

Parking at the Free Clinic, we opted to walk the eight blocks to the Conklin Avenue Family Center. It housed over two-hundred fifty men, women and children, even more during inclement weather when other shelters closed their doors at capacity. With the funding Bruce had been striving for, two adjacent buildings had been purchased and were undergoing renovations to be brought up to code. Ideally, they would have six hundred more beds available by Christmas Eve, if not sooner.

I had told Bruce the day before when I had kidnapped Mattie that I was willing to take a break from the Firm during lulls in order to pitch in. Having renovated most of the townhouse he had given me on my own, I had learned a thing or two about efficient and effective home modifications. He had been quick to point out that there were no lulls since our banquet had nearly doubled out existing clientele.

By the end of the day, I had found a way to help. Before heading to the Manor for dinner Wednesday night, I had filled out a donation form at one of the collection sites. Out of my inheritance, I had donated a hundred and fifty thousand dollars, earmarking it for the Conklin Ave center.

I had to take a deep breath before filling out the comment line with _In loving memory of Jack Drake and Dana Winters-Drake._

Arriving at the ground floor cafeteria, I was shocked at the sudden change in temperature, a result of the two-hundred individuals filling the cafeteria. As opposed to making guests stand in line, it had been arranged that each table be outfitted as if it were a normal family meal. Each fifteen person table was outfitted with a bowl of fresh salad, dinner rolls, mashed potatoes, gravy, turkey and a rainbow of vegetables. Volunteers circled to cafeteria, offering coffee, tea, hot chocolate, milk and water.

It didn't take long before an older woman recognized the lost looks on our faces, approaching us with a warm smile that reminded me of Leslie, "Can I help you?"

"Uh, we're here to help out."

"That's wonderful," she pointed to the stainless steel double doors, "Head right through there, sign in with Betty, she's right at the table as you go in."

"Thanks," I nodded before guiding Cass with my hand on her lower back.

Betty, who dubbed us the cutest couple ever at first sight, gave us name tags and assigned us to kitchen duty with instructions to seek out Chef Alfred. I couldn't help but laugh to find the gentleman's gentleman had even taken to wearing a tall, white chef hat as a means of identifying himself amidst all of the workers. He showed us no favoritism, assigning us to peel and boil potatoes and to combine them with instant potato mix and milk in an industrial mixer named Bertha.

After twenty minutes, I deemed it to be the coolest machine I had ever laid eyes on.

To prevent burnout, the volunteers in the kitchen were rotated every sixty minutes or so and I had to bid farewell to Big Bertha in order to steam vegetables in large microwaves. An easier task and certainly less dangerous, but at least it had been closer to Selina as she heated up countless dinner rolls. As she counted them out by twenty before putting them in baskets, she informed us they been donated by bakeries from all over the city.

"Howe many in total?" I asked as I dumped green beans into a cardboard serving bowl.

"For all of the places we're hosting Thanksgiving, we had almost thirteen thousand rolls donated."

The sheer number of it was overwhelming, especially considering each and every one would go to someone in need.

After mastering the ropes as busboy and lettuce chopper, we were given a break shortly before two, during which we joined other volunteers at a table to also dine on Chef Alfred's biggest meal to date. I took the time to call Barbara to tell her to go ahead without us seeing how it seemed foolish to leave when there was so much work to be done. She said she understood and added that Will and Ronna had decided to join them so at least our absence saved her from a wine glass dilemma.

A quick plate of actually tasty food later, we were back at it.

I saw Bruce only once that afternoon. He had been seated with a table of three families who, I learned second hand, had lost their apartment to a fire the night before. There was no way of telling as much as they had smiles on their faces. I passed by briefly and patted Bruce's back before offering coffee from my carafe, overhearing him talk about how he had to break up a fight between his six-year-old and his thirty six-year-old sons. He offered me a curt nod and I smirked back.

Later on, I found out that he was personally putting the families up in a hotel and seeing to it that their insurance on the building was paid immediately. Or else.

No matter how many hours, days, months or years he had been doing it, Bruce would never tire of helping people.

We made it to the Clocktower in time for dessert, of which was the divine pumpkin crumble cheesecake that had been debuted earlier in the month and an instant classic. We rehashed the day at the family center, but there were really no words to describe it in its entirety. Before leaving, Barbara forced leftovers on us seeing how we hadn't made it to dinner. Needless to say, Robbie wasn't the only one on the verge of drooling on the ride home.

Helping ourselves to heated up turkey, sweet potatoes and bacon-cheddar stuffing, Cass and I took a brief nap on the couch. Although we should have worked out to some degree, the busy day had left us both spent. By the time my internal clock roused me, dusk was falling and Robbie was hungry. Cass fed and walked him quickly while I called Barbara for the second time that day.

She said that Dick was also just suiting up and that I shouldn't expect much out of him. When I inquired as to why, she explained, "He and Will had a turkey leg eating contest. Keep him moving and he should be fine."

"No stakeouts, got it."

The night was fairly uneventful and I hoped it was because of the holiday and the kindness that had been pouring into Gotham's most troubled borough. Working mostly by myself, I did happen upon a pair of tweens trying to sneak into the house that had burned down despite the cautionary tape. I allowed them to get two rooms deep as I made my way in, cornering them in the kitchen before growling, "And I though scum couldn't get any worse…"

Both men swore, one throwing his flashlight at me. I caught it without even trying, aiming the beam of light up at my jaw line. From the looks of terror on their faces, the highlighted cowl had been scary enough, but still I warned them, "If I find you, or anyone else near this house ever again… You'll be thankful for how many functional limbs you have left next Thanksgiving."

Kids pretending to be thugs.

It made me sick to my stomach.

Around midnight, the signal had gone off but without anything on the scanners or any news from the prison or asylum, I decided it was an invitation. Tim Bryce had used it as a means of communicating with me before I started making house calls. Something that was long overdue…

Since Batgirl had been nearby, she decided to join me as I navigated to GCPD headquarters. We found Kelsey standing on the rooftop, seeking warmth by pulling her trench coat tighter around her petite frame. Expect the unexpected.

"Good evening, commissioner."

She did her best to stifle her surprise, recovering quickly by saying, "Wasn't sure you'd come."

"Crime doesn't get a holiday."

Smirking, she looked directly at us, then down at the spent cigarette butts at her feet. When her gaze rose to my face, she said, "May be stupid, but I was thinking today… with all that Wayne is doing… and how everything seems to be quiet… I realized that in part, it's because of you. You saved this city… this year and the ones before… and every time I try to thank you, you decline."

I paused before growling, "I don't want to be thanked. I want this city to be safe."

"Well it is, at least tonight. And I'm going to thank you for it whether the hell you want it or not."

Gordon would have been proud that his predecessor had come so far.

When we finally made our way back to Bristol, Batgirl opted to ride with me in the Mobile. She pulled her cowl off, something that never happened outside of the costume vault.

"What's wrong?"

She waited until we were eight miles from the Cave before answering, "You ever feel like… she's still there, still watching from the shadows?"

There was no need to ask her to clarify as I felt the same presence every time I set foot in the city limits, mask or no mask. Dropping the gravel of my voice, I told her as much and added, "It's a good thing… I'm not sure I want to be out there if Helena isn't looming over me."

Cass brought her knees up to her chest, "Me either."

I hesitated and then pulled back my own cowl, thinking that it wasn't that Bruce would never tire of saving people.

Just as when he had been Batman, he was just trying to make up for those he hadn't been able to save, knowing no matter what, it would never end.

_In loving memory_…

^V^

I woke the Saturday after Thanksgiving at quarter of eleven in the morning with no memory of having gone to bed the night before and with a vicious headache.

Instead of Selina torturing me to rise for the day, Kitten had taken the initiative. As he sprawled under the covers, I felt his tail twitching on my bare side with just enough contact to be annoying. I subconsciously brushed my left hand at him and he had seen it as an reason to launch a full assault, locking his front claws around my hand and instantly digging at my palm with his hind feet.

"Ow," I growled, flicking him in the nose until he released me. He raced out from under the blankets and lapped the bed twice before taking off and out of the room. Sitting upright, I realized Selina was gone, leaving me completely alone in the room.

"Selina?" I called out, wanting her to retrieve gauze from the bathroom.

When there was no response, I grumbled quietly, rising from the bed as blood began to leak from my hand and land on the pristine white sheets. Instinctively, I pressed my fingers closed and pressed my wrist to my stomach, trying to staunch what I could. My body seemed stiffer than usual and I practically hobbled to the bathroom. Once inside, I hit the lights and headed to the sink, turning warm water on before putting my hand under the faucet. I surveyed the damage to be a series of scratches on my wrist and particularly deep gouge on the inside of my middle finger.

With my right hand, I searched the drawers of the bathroom counter until I found sterile gauze, tape and antiseptic. I doused the hand with betadine and scrubbed it gently, letting the resulting grimace take over my face. I would have preferred getting stabbed by a knife as opposed to getting scratched with bacteria riddled claws. The bleeding had yet to stop and I opted to wrap my hand in a towel and suffer the consequences. As I sat on the edge of the tub, I saw a shadow of movement but without my hearing aides, I was unable to tell who it belonged to.

"I'm in here," I called out.

Selina appeared in the doorway and I read her lips, "What happened?"

"Apparently Kitten thinks he is top cat," I answered while raising my injured hand.

"Poor baby…" she shook here head, "No wonder he's running all over the hallway."

She went silent as she helped dress the scratches with triple antibiotic ointment that I had not been able to find and then covered them with gauze and tape that I had. Leaving me in the bathroom, Selina left momentarily to retrieve my hearing aides. When I had the left one in, she started to speak, "I was just coming up to get you. Mattie wanted to know whether or not to make you breakfast, brunch or lunch."

"Lunch is fine," I replied after putting in the right one. Rising to my feet, I finally took the opportunity to stretch my back, popping each shoulder individually before rotating my neck.

Selina shook her head as she rinsed out the bloodied sink, "Snap, crackle, pop."

"That's me," I cleared my throat before approaching the clean one beside her. "Might go back to bed… feel awful."

"Well after last night…"

"After last night what?" I asked, barely able to place anything that had happened after the last day in the city. I distinctly remembered helping with the food drive and visiting the Child ID kit station the police had set up at the Free Clinic. Afterward, I remembered that Selina had driven me up to the cemetery so that I could visit Jim's grave. From there she had driven us home, we had made it just in time for dinner with the kids…

And that was it.

"What time did I go to bed?"

"Well, we got you up here around four this morning-."

"What?" I asked, my patience quickly giving way to irritation.

She finally turned to face me after shutting the water off, "You don't remember? Bruce… you had a seizure in the Cave, although God only knows why you went down there… Tim came home early to help move you back up here once Leslie okayed it."

I shook my head, "No, we had dinner…"

She cut me off, "And you said you were going to talk to Tim before he headed out but you just missed him. You're lucky Alfred went down to check… he found you at the bottom of the stairs…"

Sitting back down on the edge of the tub, I stared down at the tiled floor, trying to force myself to recall the previous night beyond dinner. I had endured weeks of nothing more than petit mal seizures that barely lasted fifteen seconds. In the last week, I had endured two grand mal episodes. No, in the span if three days...

I had to find the balance, Alfred had said.

As Selina sat beside me, she put a hand on my stiff left knee and waited for me to look up at her, "You can't do that to me again. I'm getting sick of sitting beside a gurney."

"I'm sorry… I… I don't know why I would have gone down the stairs in the first place."

"Seriously?" she raised her brow not in surprise but in accusation.

"Fine, I can hypothesize as to why I would have."

Over the course of the week, I had come to realize that I may have decided on the third orthopedic surgery with too much haste. While I spent the hours of the day overseeing activities and volunteering, I had let my mind drift in order to weigh the pro's and con's. No matter what, the bone spurs needed to be removed as they would only worsen with age. Given the fact that I certainly wasn't getting any younger, if at some point I had decided on additional surgery, it only made sense to kill two problems with one knife.

My optimism had run out by Tuesday.

The other line of thought that refused to subside was that I needed to determine my actual physical limitations. It would enable me to deduce the value of undergoing surgery that had no total guarantee of working. I had the ability to walk up and down a small set of stairs at a time with mild discomfort, but if I absolutely needed to tackle more, I should have been able to deal with it. I had lifted cars, been crushed by steel beams and survived explosions. Limp and brain damaged be damned, I was still essentially the same man as I had been at the beginning of the year.

Granted, testing my theory after pushing myself for an entire week had not been ideal but it had added the realistic element of exhaustion to the equation.

An test that I had obviously failed.

She rose to her feet in order to stare down at me, "And if you think I'm upset, Leslie is furious. She's campaigning to lock you in your room for the immediate future."

"She's overreacting," I muttered.

"No," Selina snapped, "You're under-reacting! Damnit, Bruce… For once, can't you see this through our eyes? Can't you see what it's like for us to find you like that? What it's like for me?"

Although I felt the need to raise my voice louder than hers, I knew deep down that it was futile. And that she was right. Instead, I made it to my feet, maintaining silence. Save for the verbal brawl over Mattie's contraceptive prescription two weeks earlier, things had been going smoothly between us. Even considering all Selina had to endure with my ailments, she had done so with a brilliance that only she was capable of.

I had to find the balance between fighting and accepting.

Jim Gordon had told me once that I should have known better than to waste time being angry at the ones I loved.

At the ones who loved me.

Jim…

"Call me a jackass."

"What?" she growled, her eyes still alive with anger.

"Call me a jackass. A pin-headed ape. A liar. Hit me. Scratch me. Do whatever you want. I deserve it."

After a moment, she stepped back, "You hit your head last night. I'll blame… whatever this is… on you hitting your head."

"I'm serious. I shouldn't have tried walking down those steps at all, let alone by myself."

There was another pause before she spoke softly, "I'm getting Alfred."

When she turned to leave, I reached out and grabbed her with my left arm, "I'm trying to apologize."

"And it's freaking me out," Selina replied, although she made no attempt to free herself.

"I'm sorry."

She stared up at me for a solid minute before saying, "Pupils are equal in size… no bleeding from your ears…" Selina paused to put her hand over my heart, "Heartbeat is normal… You want to apologize?"

"More than anything," I said solemnly.

"Don't. Instead, just… promise to stop making me cry."

I kissed her cheek before agreeing, "I promise."

As I took her into an embrace, Selina proceeded, "I don't know… you haven't been too good in the promise keeping department lately."

I spoke into her ear, "I've tried, at least."

"Liar," she said into my chest.

I kissed her by the ear before responding, "Thief."

Keeping my hold on her, I reveled in the feeling of her laughing in my arms. Before I could say anything else, I heard Nathan at the doorway, "What are you doing?"

Stepping away from me, Selina turned to face him, "Dad is giving out some pretty good hugs to day."

"I want one," Nathan grinned before running over to me. Despite how much it hurt, I lifted him in my arms, squeezing him tightly until he began to fidget. When I put him back on the floor, he commented, "That's too much hug… Mattie said she wanted to know when you were coming downstairs."

"In a little while, I need to get dressed first then I'll be down."

"Okay… don't make me come up here again," he shook his head as he stomped out of the room.

Selina left me to wash up but instead of leaving me altogether, she had been in the closet finding me an outfit to wear. While I pulled on the blue jeans, gingerly securing them and a belt with my injured hand, Selina had removed the bloodied bedding. After she put them in the hamper in the bathroom, she returned to see me fighting an uphill battle in donning a shirt.

"Just… stop." I sat stoically as she finished pulling the white cotton tee onto my stiff torso before helping me don the charcoal gray sweater. Popping my head through, she announced, "I'll get your meds."

"I can get them," I offered.

"No. I am removing the anti-inflammatory. I want you to be sore all day."

When she was out of earshot, I said, "Yes, dear."

Before she returned, the bedside phone rang and glancing at the Caller ID, I smirked to see it was the cell number of Lucius. I barely made it to the phone before the third ring sounded, answering softly, "Hello?"

"Bruce Wayne… you are a pain in my ass."

"And you're just realizing this?" I smirked.

"Our entire PR department has been working around the clock trying to field all of the interviews that have come in over the last week, not to mention trying to pick which ones they can bump up the to executives… including you. I have half of a mind to tell them to line all of the reporters up and feed you to them."

"How many people did we feed Thursday?"

He chuckled, "We lost count at three-thousand."

"And how much food did we put in the bank?"

Another laugh and he responded, "They had to rent storage space."

"And how much money did we raise this week?"

"The accountants stroked out while counting," Lucius sighed, "Just so you know, you are not skipping work next week. You made this mess, you're going to clean it up."

"Yeah, yeah," I replied as Selina approached with a paper cup and a glass of water. "I'll see you Monday." I hung up and took the cups from her, answering her unasked question, "It was Lucius, congratulating us."

"Ah…" she waited to speak until both cups were empty, "You can stay up here if you want."

"Mattie's making lunch. The least I can do is ride down in an elevator."

I spent the afternoon with my family for the first time all week. Mattie somehow conned us into playing Monopoly after a grilled ham and cheese sandwiches and seasoned steak fries. Selina helped Nathan with figuring out mortgages, but other than that he led the game right from the beginning. I found it uncomfortable sitting on the couch and leaning forward over the coffee table but managed to do so for the better part of two hours. Alfred and Leslie had checked in briefly before heading out to attend a luncheon at the Clinic, smiling to see I was alive and well.

In the end, it had come down between Nathan and myself. With a strong desire for the marathon game to come to an end, I started purposefully rolling the die in order to land on his most expensive properties, shelling out my colorful money and collection of properties.

"I won, I'm Mr. Monopoly!" Nathan declared, leaping from the couch in order to hop around victoriously.

"You know what the winner gets?" Mattie smiled.

"What?" my son asked, excitement brightening his face/

"He gets to clean up," she laughed.

Selina had bartered that if they both cleaned up, she would take them out for ice cream. As they hurriedly organized the fake dollar bills and collected the houses and hotels, she asked if I wanted to tag along. I declined, promising I would behave myself in her absence. She had ordered Nathan to escort me to the master bedroom, leaving Ace to watch guard.

I fell asleep not long after, waking when the sky was dusk. Instead of Kitten slashing out at me, Ace had been licking my uninjured hand.

"I'm up," I yawned.

We rode down in the elevator but instead of stopping at the ground floor, I had decided to cue the car to continue to the Cave. I was surprised to find the lights on and the sound of metal clinking from the garage tier below. Ace growled lowly but I reassured him with a pat on the head, "Come on, boy."

I managed the six steel steps with ease and proceeded to cross towards one of the older Batmobiles that was pulled out into the middle. I heard an out of sight Tim instructing , "All right and then we check the lug nuts one more time. Since we pulled the jack out, you always want to check it one more time."

"Okay," I heard Mattie reply.

Tim stood, wiping his hands on a rag before smirking at me, "Hey, Bruce."

Mattie waved the lug wrench from the other side of the car, "Hi, Dad."

"Automotive 101?" I asked.

"Something like that," he began walking around the front end, "I bet you're glad this week is over." His way of asking how I felt, keeping Mattie from learning about the night before.

"I am."

Mattie stood up as well, a smidge of grease on her chin, "What happened to your hand, Dad?"

"Kitten got the best of me. Mom's going to trim his nails later."

"What a crazy cat," she shook her head as she approached, "Well, I'm going to go wash up. I think we have ham left if you want something, Tim."

"Sure, hard to turn down Pennyworth ham." Before following my daughter, Tim looked to me, "If you have a minute, I'd like to talk."

I nodded, "Take a break first."

"Got it, boss," he winked before calling out, "Race you to the clock!"

Ace and I proceeded back up the stairs, the dog patiently waiting as I forced myself up step by step. It had been weeks since I had sat in the chair before the computer and with the solitude of the Cave, I couldn't resist the opportunity. Still as stiff as I had been that morning, I carefully sat down, smirking when Ace lowered his haunches to my left, his eyes and ears at full attention. He hadn't spent a considerable amount of time in the Cave, the overwhelming sounds and smells seemed to be putting his training to the test.

I roughed up his scruff, "Platz, Ace."

Instead of laying down, he let out a low growl, quickly getting to his feet.

Before I could turn around to see what was bothering him so, I spotted a reflection on the blank monitor.

It would have been easy to mistake her for Selina, as she had long, wavy dark hair, a tall, slender frame and a heart shaped face.

It would have been impossible to mistake her for Selina when she said, "It's been too long, my beloved."

^V^


	6. Come What May:  VI

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family must deal with an unexpected guest and the baggage she brings.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note:Tim loosely mentions events that occurred in the Teen Titans "License to Drive" story. Again, since this is technically an AU story, some characters may have alternate fates and may not have encountered one another or events may not have occurred as they have in actual canon.

^V^

Mattie was certain that she was going to beat me to the grandfather clock, to the point where she prematurely declared, "Victory is mine!"

Not five steps from the secret entrance that separated Batman's world from that of Bruce Wayne's, I raced by, wrapping an arm around her waist. Once I lifted her into the air, I pinned her to my torso, fighting back a smile as she complained between laughs. From the very beginning, I had derailed from my mentor's training regimen that had strictly forbid any sort of fun. A young sidekick was not meant to be a carbon copy, they needed to contrast the dark.

I let Mattie down once we made it into the study and she promptly stuck her tongue out.

There wasn't an ounce of darkness in her, a miracle considering all she had faced in her life.

Mattie had made her way to the Cave around three-thirty in the afternoon, ready and willing to work on strength training and reaction time drills with me. She had joked at one point that it was getting too easy, forcing me to up the ante by blindfolding her. Blind for the time being, I had encircled her, randomly reaching out and tapping her with the end of a bo staff. At first, she was unable to deflect any of the gentle contacts and the random directions causing her to spin around to look for me.

"Listen for it, Mattie. You can't always rely on the night vision. Your cowl could be damaged, or missing… the only thing you can rely on is your senses. If you lose one, make the others stronger."

I had struck her behind the left knee with more force, nearly causing her to yelp. By the time she spun around to grab the bo staff, I had already recoiled and paced three strides clockwise, hitting her exposed abdomen. Mattie had leaned forward with a quick gasp and when I reminded her to balance between offense and defense, she snarled.

The quicker and harder I had struck her from varying positions, the better she was able to focus. It had fluidly progressed into a spar, she remaining unarmed and blindfolded. For my final blow, I had faked to the right before bounding left, aiming for the small of her back with a vicious crack. With time to spare, she had turned to face me, blocking the blow, latching onto the staff and using it as a catapult in order to launch herself at me.

Landing flat on my back, I had grinned as she peeled back the fabric covering her eyes.

"Now you see."

She had dropped the blindfold on my face, "Now you don't."

Although she had been pumped with adrenaline from the drill, and subsequently flooring me, I had called it a day for the physical work. She had sighed with disappointment but I was pleased when she had kept any verbal complaints to herself. Although she excelled at both the hands-on and theoretical lessons, it was easy to see which ones she preferred. We had cooled down on the mats with a few minutes of breathing and stretching exercises before heading out of the training bay.

Where she had instinctively headed for the lab area, I had departed in the opposite direction towards a set of small steel steps.

"Where are you going?" I had called out.

"Where are _you _going?" she had echoed back.

I had motioned her over with a wave of my hand, "Come on. Time to learn about the Malone's Auto Body Shop."

"The what?" she had asked while striding over.

Quickly taking the steps, I had replied, "That's what Dick calls the garage."

She had reached the tier and caught up with me before responding, "Ah, after Matches."

"God rest his soul," I had smirked down at her.

I had explained right away that Batman and his allies weren't exactly able to use mechanics or AAA services. She had smirked as I told her that she needed to be as well versed in maintaining her equipment as with any other aspect of her training. I had offered her a tour of the various models of Mobiles but she had shrugged, "That's okay, Dad showed me a while ago."

"Ah. Any favorites?" I had asked.

She had taken a moment to gaze at the draped vehicles before pointing to the far right.

I had smirked while walking over to one of the earliest Mobiles, earmarked in the histories with its long fins and bubble canopies over the driver and passenger seats, "The Futura… a classic."

"What about you?" she had asked while following me.

"I love the classics as well… but I have a soft spot for this one," I had smirked while backtracking four spots down. Pulling the cover half off, I had continued, "I call it the Mercedes-Bats CLK-GTR."

Mattie had joined me, staring at the glossy black exterior of a car that was older than she was. Although most of the older models had been detailed and primed for quasi-retirement, the one before us bore scratches on the hood, roof and doors, dents in the fenders and side and even cracks in the bullet-resistant windshield.

"What happened to it?" she had asked, running her fingers through a particularly deep gouge on the hood.

"Well, believe it or not, I used to be a teenager. And as a teenager, I was a member of the Teen Titans. And unlike other members, I had access to very nice, very shiny and very expensive things."

"You crashed the Batmobile?"

"No," I had instantly defended myself, "Bart… Kid Flash… he crashed it. Terrible, terrible driver."

"Is he any better now?"

Biting down on my lip for a moment, I had thought briefly of my late friend's unruly hair and devious smirk, suddenly feeling guilty for not attending the JLA meeting earlier in the week.

"No, he… he died a long time ago," I had said while pulling the cover all of the way off and letting it fall to the floor. "He could run faster than the speed of light, but he loved this car…"

I had picked the Mercedes as our learning specimen, joking in order to lighten the mood by saying she certainly couldn't hurt it anymore than it already was. Retrieving the keys, I had pulled it out into the middle of the bay, the seven hundred horsepower engine ripping through the silence of the Cave. I showed her the main points of the engine, the features that had become standard in every Mobile and then moved on to maintenance. She changed the fuel and oil filters, drained and filled the oil and learned to rotate and check the tires for air.

Much like earlier, the more she had to do, the quicker she picked it up.

We had been changing a tire when Bruce had made an appearance, looking as terrible as I had expected him to. Alfred had contacted me on the comm. link in the wee hours that morning, nervous energy breaking through his voice. He had found Bruce unconscious at the base of the granite steps in the Cave, victim to both a fall and seizure. Regrettably, there had been no way of telling which had struck first. Alfred had explained that Leslie had cleared Bruce to be stable enough to go upstairs and that he needed a stronger soul than himself in order follow through.

"I understand if you are busy, lad…"

"I'm never too busy for him," I had replied.

I had called it an early night in order to help relocate Bruce to the master bedroom. Pushing his gurney into the elevator and moving his limp body into bed had brought back buried memories of moving him home after he had been shot by Pasqualle over a decade earlier. It had been just as painful seeing him infirm as a teenager as it was being a man grown. I had checked in with Alfred during the day, relieved to hear that Bruce was up and about, enjoying an afternoon with Selina and the kids.

Hiding my concern, I had greeted Bruce in the Cave as if everything was fine, knowing he would do the same. It was painful looking at him, knowing that I had yet to confide in him, had yet to ask for his insight. Arguing with Dick the weekend before hadn't made it any easier, knowing that both he and Barbara were waiting with baited breath. Bruce's faint smirk had me forcing words out of my mouth, asking to speak with him. He had agreed, subsequently postponing it by telling me to take a break with his daughter.

I had agreed, for Mattie's sake more than his or my own.

"Okay, we have ham… potatoes… ham… parsnips… ham," Mattie joked as she searched the massive refrigerator. After a good six minutes of scrubbing her hands with soap, she had been perusing what was left of the feast we had earlier in the week. Alfred was never a fan of leftovers so no doubt it would be the food's last day before getting tossed.

Sitting on one of the stools at the island counter, I asked, "Any of that cake left? That was really good."

"Yeah," she stepped out from behind the open door with her hands full of glass containers. Setting them down on the counter, she used her rear to shut the door, "Ham first, then dessert."

"Sounds like a plan."

With the potatoes and parsnips heating in a skillet, Mattie went about making sandwiches on slices of wheat bread. Wanting to feel somewhat useful, I poured each of us tall glasses of cold water. I drained and refilled mine before asking if I could do anything else. She shook her head, "Alfred would never forgive me. He told me about the time you did laundry."

"That was like… fifteen years ago… He never forgets anything…" I sighed as the phone rang. With my pupil occupied, I rose to my feet and grabbed it on the second ring, "Hello?"

There was a brief clip of a dial tone, followed by a series of short tones: bip-bip-bip beep-beep-beep bip-bip-bip.

After my heart leapt into my throat, I managed to swallow it back down in order to hang up. Mattie asked who it was and I said, "Wrong number…"

Had I wanted to cause her to panic, I would have told her the truth.

The Manor's security and the Cave's security were connected, alerts from below sounding in the house as common things. Alfred had a system in his room that cued him when we returned from patrols and if we needed medical attention. If tests were done in the lab, the phone system would send out a page signal. And in the event of an "in Cave" emergency, a false call was sent out with a Morse code message.

S-O-S.

As calmly as I could, I said, "Hey… I'm going to go down and talk to your Dad… mind staying up here for a while?"

"Are you going to talk about me?" she grinned as she waved the spatula.

I shrugged, "Maybe… But keep on cooking… I'll be back in a few."

Still restraining myself, I quietly strode out of the kitchen and five yards down the hall before taking off at a dead run. Coming to a halt before the grandfather clock, I took a deep breath, preparing myself to find Bruce laying on the cold floor. Moments earlier, I had raced up the stairs in sport, but I ran down them twice as fast, my blood running cold.

"Bruce!" I called out, leaping over the last four steps and taking off to the main floor.

"I'm all right, Tim," I heard him say over the fall of my footsteps and the beating of my heart.

And he was, standing beside the chair in the computer bay, Ace stoic by his side.

But he wasn't alone.

The only daughter of Ra's Al Ghul stood five feet in front of Bruce, wearing black leggings tucked into leather boots. As opposed to her customary garb of combat ready attire and weaponry, she wore a dark gray turtleneck under fur lined vest and dirty leather gloves. Her long hair was loose, dripping passed her shoulders with a trademark lock covering half of her face. It had been fifteen years since I had seen her last and she looked as if she hadn't aged a day.

I came to a stop when I was equidistant between Bruce and Talia, ready to protect him or take her out at a moment's notice. Clenching my fists, I glared at her, "I'm giving you one second to back away."

She smiled warmly, her voice entertained rather than concerned, "My, how you have grown…"

"Second's up," I snapped, taking one step forward.

Bruce spoke softly, "That's enough, Tim."

I shot a look at him for a moment, confused to see how calm he looked. Glancing back to Talia, I demanded, "How the hell did you get in here?"

"Please," she gazed around the expanse of the main tier, "I've broken in more times than you have."

"That wasn't an answer," I lowered my voice.

Bruce stepped forward and started to speak, but Talia interrupted him. She turned to face me, "It doesn't matter. What matters is that I am here. That I have defied all odds and lived long enough to find you."

Pulse still throbbing in my temples, I drew a long breath before unclenching my fingers.

Talia looked to her feet momentarily, a look of pain flashing over her delicate face. Tentatively, she reached up, pushing the wave of hair off of her face in order to reveal a rough, pink scar running from her brow to the corner of her jaw.

"I told you… I need you to protect me."

^V^

Raising my wine glass, I exhaled slowly, "To Dad."

"To Dad," Jim repeated as he clinked his glass to mine.

Dick chimed his with ours while saying, "To Jim." When we looked at him, he added, "He never let me call him Dad and anytime I did, he would remind me that it was Jim or… if I was in trouble, Sir."

I laughed before taking a small sip, "You, in trouble?"

Shrugging, Dick sat back into the couch, "You would never know that beneath this handsome exterior is a heart of mischief and wonder."

Jim shook his head, "I may need to switch to something stronger than this if you're going talk like that."

After dinner, I had decided to put a very cranky Ethan down to bed, more than an hour early seeing he had refused to nap during the afternoon. Afterward, we had collected in the living room with a bottle of white wine and second helpings to still warm apple-pear pie and vanilla ice cream. I had concocted it for my father on our first Fourth of July together and he had instantly claimed it to be his favorite. Thereafter, I had made it for him on every single one of his birthdays and whenever things were bad at the department.

It had always made him smile.

Dick, whose glass had only been a third full, drained the last bit of liquid before setting it on the coffee table, centering it on a coaster. He then picked up his dessert plate, smiling before digging into his oversized slice of pie. Frank made a choking sound from between Dick's feet, prompting my husband to elaborately say, "Mmmmm, it's so tasty, Frank."

The dog hacked and gargled, a habit that had guaranteed scraps from my father but hadn't worked once in the time he had lived with us. After setting my wine down, I elbowed Dick and told him, "Leave my step-brother alone."

"Oh, all right… Truce, Frank?" he asked before breaking off a piece of flaky crust and offering it to the French Bulldog. Flews flying, the piece disappeared instantly. After wiping his hand on his shirt, Dick then sighed, "After this week… I may need waist control tights."

Jim shook his head before taking a forkful, "Me too… Mo is going to make me go to the gym with her when I get back."

Sitting beside Dick on the couch, I set my fork down before reaching over and patting his flat stomach, feeling taut skin beneath his tee-shirt, "You're right… I think CVS has them on sale starting tomorrow, two for one."

Dick smirked as he responded, "Hey, you remember when Bruce first stepped down… how Selina used to pick on him that he was getting out of shape?"

"Do I ever," I shook my head before clarifying for my brother, "Even though he retired from being… you know, Bruce toned down his Spartan exercise regimes to be marginally less maniacal. Selina used to pick on him all of the time… made him so mad… One time she joked about it when I was up visiting and he walked right out of the room and went to work in the gym."

Jim smiled, "He does seem to be the obsessive type."

"You have no idea, man," Dick shook his head, "Hell, even with a busted leg he is still at least two hours a day."

Sitting back into the recliner, Jim sighed, "Okay, when I get home tomorrow, I'm getting a gym membership, whether Mo makes me or not."

It was sad to think that it had already been a week since Dick and I had picked him up at the airport. He had a ten-thirty flight the next morning back to Chicago and I knew he was excited to get home to Maureen and Sarah. Since Halloween, they had made a step in the right direction, finally setting a date for their wedding the following May. Nearly a year of postponement but given the reason why, it was understandable.

"Speaking of home, I went to FedEx today, had some things sent to you back in Chi-town."

"Things?" Jim asked, "What things?"

As Dick took a spoonful of my ice cream, he chimed in, "Yeah, what things?"

"Things… for Sarah. For you. For Maureen."

"Christmas things?" he accused.

"Well, I know she wanted you guys to celebrate it out there with her family, so I figured I would get a head start."

"Barbara, you didn't-."

"Shut it… Or you're walking to the airport in the morning."

Setting his empty plate down, Dick groaned, "Damnit… I forgot to send out Roy's birthday gift."

"When was it?" I asked.

"The first of November… Good thing they were pre-order tickets for the Super Bowl… I still have some time.

"He'll get over it, buy him a ten dollar cup of beer when you go," I stopped when my phone sounded from my pocket. Handing my plate to Dick, I retrieved it, seeing a fake number on the display indicating the call was coming from the Cave. I smiled, thinking that maybe Bruce was finding himself feeling sentimental, no doubt sitting in front of the computer and reading ancient articles about his late best friend.

I answered with, "Hey, what's up."

A dial tone sounded, then a series of rapid fire beeps before returning to a long tone.

Hanging up, I quickly moved to my wheelchair, hastily leaving the room. With my mobile device, I started to open the Oracom link, hoping for a voice to greet me from the computer in the Cave. Dick called out to me as I turned down the hall, but I didn't reply until I was certain there was no answer on the other end, "Dick."

Setting the plates down on the coffee table, both Dick and Jim rose to their feet, concern washing over their faces. Where Jim opted to stand back, Dick followed me into the hall and towards the secure entrance, he asked, "What's going on?"

While listening to incessant ringing after dialing Tim's phone, I answered him, "I just got an emergency signal from the Cave but no one is answering. Tim's there working with Mattie… he's not picking up on his cell… someone should be responding."

Dick swore under his breath before nodding, "Okay, I'll call when I get there…" He leaned in and kissed my brow before taking off towards the front of the apartment, telling something to Jim as he passed by.

As I unlocked the door remotely and waited for the wall to recede, I heard my brother's footfalls approaching, "Barbara?"

"Sorry, duty calls…" I glanced back at him.

"Did something happen?" he asked, his hazel eyes widening with worry.

"I don't know… I… If you want, you can hang out in the den."

Jim shook his head, "And do what, watch TV? Hell no."

My eyes never left his face as I said, "Fine… but if you come in here, you don't touch anything. Anything."

There was a stunned silence from Jim as he took in not only the technological contents of my lair but also how quickly I had gone from gracious hostess to battle commander. Donning my headset, I prompted the computer system to life with vocal authorization, situating myself in front of the sensor pad that acted as a keyboard and mouse while offering infinite controls over manipulating and designing for digital and holographic display. Neglecting my mobile device, I accessed communication links to Tim's and Bruce's phones as well as the regular line of Wayne Manor.

No answer from any of them.

Without being asked, I explained, "There was a distress signal… it could be that someone is hurt… it could be that someone broke in… I just… it's better to be safe than sorry."

I caught him nodding out of the corner of my eye.

I didn't need to tell Jim about being cautious.

The security system of the Cave had yet to initiate lock down, which generally took place the very second that the emergency call went out. As I opened up the computer's activity log, I was confused that the signal had been sent but when the countermeasures were initiated, an override command had been entered. No software intrusions or viruses were coming up on the scanning program, nor were their any indications that the biometric scanners had been tainted.

Not good. Definitely not good.

"Lights, camera, action…" I said, keying in the command to access the live Oracom communication feed.

"Camera?" I heard Jim ask.

"It's a direct audio-visual link between myself and the Cave's computer," I glanced over my shoulder at him, "It will show whoever is on the main tier of the Cave, but they will see and hear a nondescript version of myself… ."

He nodded, looking bewildered, "Ah."

Taking a breath, I opened up the visual feed, activating the filter that covered my voice and masked my face with my green digital counterpart. I brought the returning image from the Cave up on my main monitor, relieved to see Bruce and Tim alive and seemingly well. Ace was beside his master, eyes focused intently on the third person on the screen.

As much as I hated to admit it, I wasn't entirely shocked to see that it was Talia. She appeared to be alone and unarmed, but her sudden appearance certainly qualified as a reason to sound the alarms. Between the encrypted transmission that I had been unable to trace an origin for and the letter that had come from a dummy postal delivery service in Iran, I had been waiting for her next move. She hadn't hesitated in showing fear of her father and his unnamed ally as well as her desire to find safety. The only place she would be able to quell one and indulge in the other was in Gotham, with Bruce.

Then again, she had written and sent the letter to Tim, also showing her doubts in Bruce…

With green light casting over them, each looked up to their monitor, Tim speaking first, "Run a sweep on the sensors in the Cave. I want to know if there is a single bat missing."

"On it," I replied, activating a program Bruce had designed and installed years earlier. With over a two thousand motion, sound, thermal and light sensors strategically placed throughout the Cave, it was possible to search for changes as minute as a rock rolling five inches. With that underway, I allowed myself to join Bruce and Tim in studying Talia, wanting to ask how long they had been standing there.

Somehow, I found the self-control to simply observe in silence.

Even though she looked as stunning as ever, there was something off in her poise and stance. Despite her ever shifting loyalty, she had always been a strong-willed woman, never tolerating insubordination in any form or from anyone. Ace recognized her apprehension and let out a low growl, one that was momentarily silenced when Bruce looked down at him. Although they both sensed the strain, Tim seemed to be siding with the dog by taking an offensive stance with tense muscles and clenched fists.

Bruce, oddly enough, was just standing there as if Talia's presence had been expected.

"Ace," Bruce growled back at the dog. When he quieted and settled back onto his haunches, Bruce spoke with a softer tone, "Talia… Where have you been?"

"Forget where she's been, I want to know how the hell she got here?" Tim snapped.

Talia studied Tim for a moment, her eyes desperate, her voice practically begging, "This is unnecessary… I am the victim, not the vector."

Tim took a step towards her, "Sorry if I can't take your word for granted. Hard to trust someone so willing to stab someone in the back."

Bruce started to speak but Talia beat him to it, "My very being here shows not only how desperate I am for protection, but that I was scared enough for your well being to come and warn you."

"Too little too-."

"Enough," Bruce said, although not with the growl I was expecting. He looked to me, "Where's Dick?"

"On his way, at least another ten minutes until he arrives," I replied. He may have decided to be informal with her, but I chose not to.

Bruce cleared his throat before saying, "You're going to answer Tim's question. How did you get in here?"

She sighed before replying, "I've spent the last six months running from my father's men… entering your Cave was easy by comparison."

"What entrance did you use?" Bruce asked.

"The old barn. I entered on foot through the woods… and I secured it upon passing through."

Having apparently taken over the situation, Bruce continued, "Are you alone?"

She took another step forward, leaving barely a foot between them, "Yes, I swear on my mother's soul. I am alone. I have been for some time."

Tim started to speak, "Bruce..."

Bruce silenced him with a look before asking her, "Are you injured?" He was still using the same soft tone, one that had no place in the interrogation of an individual who had just broken into the Cave. I brought up a vocal analyzing program that evaluated the timber, rate and volume of her voice, as well as monitoring respiration. Knowing how good she was at lying, it seemed pointless but I decided to at least make the effort.

"No… just tired," her lips trembled before she added, "And scared."

There was a long pause before I spoke, "Scan hasn't come up with anything yet. I recommend physical examination of all entry points."

"Later," Bruce said before looking to Tim, "Go upstairs. Wait for Dick, then bring him and Selina down. Tell Alfred to stay with the children."

As the very thought crossed my mind, Tim said it aloud, "You honestly want Selina down here?"

"We need to talk. As a Family."

"I'm not leaving you alone with her," he replied, not even bothering whisper.

"I'm not alone," was Bruce's reply glancing down at the dog, his eyes and ears having never left Talia since I had brought the video up.

Tim looked over Talia once more before casting his eyes to the monitor, "Set phasers to stun."

"Copy that," I replied.

As he moved off screen, I muted my microphone, "Jim."

"Want me out?"

"If you don't mind… I'm sorry… It's not so much of an emergency as it is decades of drama and angst coming to a head."

With one eye on the screen, I watched as Talia spoke softly to Bruce. The other caught Jim nodding, "Gotcha. I had enough of that watching soap operas with Mo when she was pregnant."

After unlocking the door for him, he waited for it to open before stepping outside. I took a moment to glance over, "I'll be out as soon as I can. Promise."

"And I'll try not to eat the entire pie. Promise," he smirked at me just as the door closed.

^V^

I was eight minutes from Wayne Manor when Barbara called. With the speed limit being fifty-five miles per an hour and the speedometer on the Range Rover edging towards eighty-five, it rang three times before I answered, "Babs, what's going on?"

"You better slow down, there's a trooper posted on the right a half-mile up."

"Damnit, Barbara, what's going on?" I found myself shouting out of sheer anxiety.

"First of all, I'm not kidding, he's going to pull you over. Second, the Cave is secure, Bruce-."

"What happened?" I cut in, barely hitting the brakes in time to decelerate to a speed that wouldn't arouse suspicion. Coasting by the hidden trooper at an even fifty-eight, I waited until I was out of his radar's range before picking up speed. She didn't sound concerned, forcing me to be twice as worried. If it had been a fluke, she would have told me it was a false alarm right away, that I could go back home and finish my second dessert.

"As I was saying, Bruce and Tim came up on the monitor… along with Talia."

"What?" I cried, tapping the breaks in order to make the last turn without flipping the SUV. I nearly asked how the hell she had gotten in, but Talia had been able to sneak into the Cave whenever she pleased over the course of her and Bruce's dysfunctional relationship. Instead, I inquired, "How did she get into Gotham without our knowing?"

"Not sure. Bruce wants all of us to meet so we can get everything out in the open. Tim is going to meet you upstairs, he'll bring you and Selina down-."

Sighing, I turned up the private road, "Should have ridden the cycle up… at least then I would have a helmet to wear."

I reached into the center console, taking out what appeared to be a typical garage door remote. Pressing my thump on the key pad, it scanned my fingerprint before sending out the signal to open the wrought iron gates ahead. With the Manor possibly still on lock down after the emergency signal, I wasn't about to have the new car aerated with rubber bullets from hidden countermeasures.

Still driving faster than necessary, I raced through the gates while Barbara explained, "She's admitted to using the old barn to get into the Cave. The security scan revealed she also deactivated a few sensors as she made her way in…"

"Sneaky demon spawn," I muttered as the Manor came into view, "Is she alone?"

"So she says."

I went around the garage, parking crooked before hopping out, "I'm on my way in… See you in a few."

As I made my way through the service entrance, I sighed with relief to find the kitchen dim and empty. Quickly jogging through the quiet halls, I navigated to the study with no intention of waiting for either Tim or Selina. Sending Tim upstairs to meet me was a textbook Bruce move and possibly the first gesture he had made since April that reflected the _old him_. Talia's presence was obviously a surprise, one Bruce could get to the bottom of more easily if he was alone with her.

Reaching the closed oak door, I swung it open to find they were in fact waiting for me. Tim waited until I was in and had closed the door before checking, "Barbara call you?"

Where he appeared only slightly tense, Selina was pushing into the red zone. The furrowed brows, pursed lips and electric gaze belong partially concealed by a mask, not in the soft lighting of Bruce's study. Stepping closer, I nodded, "Figures something like this would happen today."

"Today?" Tim asked.

Selina looked to Tim, "It's the twenty-seventh."

It took a moment for the date to sink in, the look on his face suggesting it was the first time he thought of Jim Gordon's tombstone that day. Tim shook his head and sighed, "Shit… I totally forgot."

Setting a hand on his shoulder, I offered, "It's okay, we've got a bigger problem right now. How the hell did this happen?"

"Contemplate all you want, boys," Selina turned towards the open clock entrance, "I'm going to get answers."

Before following, I leaned over and whispered into Tim's ear, "I'll put fifty on Selina."

He shook his head, leading the way to the stairs without saying a word.

Blood still pumping, I barely felt the change in temperature as we descended into the Cave. Tim and I had to practically jog down the steps in order to keep up with Selina. As far as I knew, Selina had never encountered any of Bruce's former significant others. Vicki Vale and Julie Madison had moved on, Silver St. Cloud had disowned him and Vesper Fairchild was in Gotham Cemetery.

Jumping the last two steps, a bad feeling started deep in my gut. Having Talia as the first one she encountered had me wondering if it would leave the Cave floor bathed in blood.

Walking over towards the computer bay, I first noticed the large green visage of Oracle as opposed to Barbara's concerned face. Next, I spotted Talia dressed in boots, leggings and a fur lined coat over a dirtied long-sleeved tee. A fraction of a second later, I realized she had a hand resting on Bruce's chest and that no one was standing between her and Selina. Realizing company was approaching, Talia let her hand drop slowly, making no effort to look embarrassed.

Standing in a loosely formed circle, I decided to cut through the steely glares and palpable tension, "Did we really have to do this today?"

She appraised me with an odd smile on her face, "Richard."

"Talia," I nodded.

Bruce looked to Selina, almost looking apologetic before introducing her, "Talia…this is my wife, Selina."

"The one who stole your heart," Talia said, her smile seeming out of place given the icy look in her hazel eyes.

Not wanting to waste another second, Bruce approached the computer, remaining on his feet while saying, "Breaking in aside, I need you to clarify a few things. Oracle?"

The green face on the screen nodded before the monitor opened up a small audio window. Before it played, Talia moved to stand beside Bruce, "Right to business, then. Good to see that even after all of these years... that hasn't changed."

Instinctively, Tim and I both looked to Selina who was still silently sending daggers from her eyes and into the back of Talia's head. With Bruce occupied, he was less likely to see any possible attack from behind, prompting me to step closer to her, "Listen, Selina…"

The look she gave me urged me to keep my mouth shut for the next decade.

Tim, being slightly braver than I, spoke up, "Let's just take this one step at a time. Bruce wants to work first, let him."

Ignoring us, he cued the enhanced transmission to play, "_I have only moments… but I needed to contact you, to try to warn you… These last fifteen years… my father hasn't been in hiding… he's been preparing… for something dire, something that involves you. And your family."_

Talia crossed her arms over her chest, seeming to relive the words that played over the speakers. Having heard it dozens of times, I practically moved my lips with it, word for word. There were a number of questions that were born from the transmission, but I knew the most important one came from the very last line.

"_Beloved… I can't even begin to explaining the things he has done to me… holding me captive… his new ally is a vile man… I need your help, I need you… My father has spent these last years training him… he wants me to wed him but I can't… he's… I couldn't do it to you, beloved, I couldn't… marry an abomination… I could barely look at him without thinking of you, and what you endured for him… before and after he died… Beloved, please, I-."_

There was a moment before Bruce turned to stare down at Talia, "Who is he? Who is the man working with your father?"

She shook her head, a hand rising up to cover her gaped mouth. She reluctantly withdrew it to say, "There was more to this… I… I don't know what happened to it."

Tim said, "This message was encrypted and bounced off of a dozen satellites before Oracle found it."

Bruce repeated his question, his voice finally starting to take an edge, "Who is he? Is it Bane?"

"Beloved, I-," Talia started, tears brimming at her eyes. Selina tensed between us, a low growl sounding when the other woman continued, "He never meant for you to know. It was a mistake… from the beginning-."

Out of nowhere, Bruce grabbed her by her wrist, twisting it behind her back before pinning her into the side of the chair, "Who?"

The tears slipped over her cheeks as she whimpered, "Jason… Jason Todd."

"Don't lie to me, Talia," he leaned in closer, the growl matching the hardened face.

"I swear to you…" she whispered, her lower lip trembling.

The thumping in my chest came to a sudden stop.

No.

Not Jason…

Releasing her, Bruce took and awkward step sideways, practically collapsing into the chair. Talia knelt before him, finally letting the words come willingly, "After Jason died, my father wanted to make amends… When I came to Gotham looking for Qayin… my father sent men to collect his remains…"

Bruce was shaking his head, but had yet to say a word.

She reached up and touched his forearm, "He wanted to spare you of your suffering, of your pain…"

Selina suddenly moved by us, swatting at Talia's hand, "Get the hell away from him!"

"I beg your pardon-."

"Don't make me ask twice," she hissed, putting her hands on Bruce's face. We watched on as she said his name softly as if trying to reassure him.

It was then I noticed his right hand was trembling on the armrest. I moved forward as well, "What do you need?"

"Nothing, it's just a petit mal… Bruce, it's okay…" she proceeded to rub her hand over his chest.

Talia shook her head as she stood on the other side of the chair, gently rubbing her wrist, "I am so sorry, I didn't know it would-."

Selina glared at her, "One more word and I'll rip your tongue out."

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Tim approaching Talia, guiding her away while talking quietly. With Bruce sitting before me, I was unable to focus both on his well being and what they were whispering about. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I wondered if he was telling her that Bruce didn't know about the letter, or if he was warning her that Selina was capable of much worse than just ripping her tongue out. I thought how quiet Barbara was on the screen above us and how hard it was too be eye level with Bruce as his neurological system failed him.

Twenty seconds later, Bruce stilled, blinking slowly before looking up at us, "We have to exhume..." his words failed him, leaving him shaking head while he tried to get up.

I put my hand beside Selina's on his chest, "Fine, but you need to sit for a second."

"Wh-," he started to inquire. Looking up at Selina's concerned face, he as able to answer his own question. He then grumbled, "Fine… Oracle, I need security logs for all of August, '94... Look for any suspicious alerts, air space activity…"

"Consider it done," her image replied.

I glanced up to see Talia stepping forward despite Tim urging her to stand to the side, "Beloved, I am so sorry…"

"Don't be… And don't call me that," he glanced up at Tim and then back to Talia. Exhaling slowly, Bruce noted, "Take Tim the way you came in. Fix the deactivated sensors. Secure the old barn entrance."

"Okay," Tim nodded.

"Dick and I will go upstairs and-," he cut himself off short, unable to say the words. Bruce looked up at us as we hovered over him, "Do you mind?"

Although I backed away, Selina held her ground, "Yes, I do. You're pushing it as it is by having that succubus here… But one more and you're going to the hospital."

"It was only-."

She cut him off with a low growl, "Only a precursor to your third strike."

Tim cleared his throat, "Let's go… I need to hit the lab first, get some supplies."

He took two strides before realizing he wasn't being followed. Just as he went to call out to her, Talia offered once more, "Bruce… I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault…" he said, looking to her.

She shook her head, the lock of hair waving back and forth over her cheek, "No… I… for Jason… I'm… I'm so sorry it had to come to you this way…."

He finally made it to his feet, "If you're lying… you will be sorry."

^V^

Despite how it had started, it was quite possibly the best Saturday I had spent with my Family in a long time.

Even after a long day in the city, I had spent Friday night at the movies with Angie and Katarina, Kat's mother taking us out for a light meal as well. We had shared appetizers and indulged on milkshakes despite the cold air outside. Her mom had dropped me off at home a little after ten, and I had been worried that I would get in trouble for being late without calling ahead.

There had been no one on the ground floor, the lights out in every room and the corridors dimmed for the evening. I had quietly made my way upstairs, pausing on the second floor landing to look down the east wing. Finding another barely lit hall, I had reasoned that Alfred and Leslie had already called it a night, leaving me to climb the remaining flight in the clear.

The third floor had been equally quiet. I had practically tiptoed the entire way to my door, not even taking a chance to wake my parents by peering into their room. It had been a long week for them, especially for Dad. By Wednesday he had been exhausted, not even feeling well enough to join the Family for dinner. I had hoped that they had gone to bed after tucking Nathan in and wouldn't know of my delayed return.

After changing into cut off sweat pants and a long-sleeved black tee, I had collapsed onto my bed, reaching to my nightstand in order to drag my laptop over. I had chatted online for a bit, checked my e-mail and looked at the new pictures on my old stable's website. As much as I missed riding and spending time at the barn, it had still been the right choice to leave it behind in order to pursue my other interests. With no concrete plans for the weekend, I had thought that maybe I would convince Mom to take a drive over, even if it was just to groom Coltrane and Rusty.

Putting the computer back on my bedside table, I had heard my cell phone chirp from my dresser. Rolling off of the bed, I had retrieved it, smiling to see a text message from Terry: **how was girls night?**

I had decided to call him back, greeting him with, "It was awesome."

"Awesome, hunh…"

"Yeah, Kat's mom took us to Charlotte's after the movie."

"Tell me you didn't get the chicken pot stickers," he had sighed.

"I did. And they were amazing," I had laughed quietly.

We had chatted until nearly one in the morning, catching up seeing how we hadn't spoken to one another since Wednesday. He had flown out with his father and sister to Arizona Tuesday night, visiting his grandmother and his aunts and uncles that lived out there. Between the three hour time difference and our equally busy schedules, we had relied on texting one another for most of the break. Unfortunately, he wasn't due back until Sunday afternoon, essentially spending his entire school break away. As long as he wasn't too tired, but we still had planned to hang out when he got back, hopefully something fun.

Girls night was great and all, but you couldn't hold your friend's hand walking into the movies…

Turning my alarm clock off, I had finally crawled into bed, petting Taffy while fighting yawns. Since I had spent Wednesday and Friday volunteering and Thursday at the Clocktower for Thanksgiving, Saturday had been the first day of my vacation that I had a chance to sleep in. Listening to my calico purring beside me, I had finally fallen asleep, leaving my body tell me when it wanted to rise.

When my eyes had opened, they first found Taffy's colorful face, still peaceful with slumber. I had rolled over to find my alarm clock, surprised when it had only read five after seven. Getting out of bed, I had proceeded to stretch out my arms, back and legs, exhaling as my muscles relaxed. It wasn't often that I had eight hours of sleep and I had no intention of letting my body get accustomed to it.

Alfred said that Dad had spent most of his life living off of three or less hours of sleep at night. Although, he was certainly catching up on all of those hours he had missed…

Even thought I had intended it to be a lazy day, I had decided to get ready for the day, taking time to straighten my hair. I had picked out a pair of jeans and a dip-dye fitted sweater that was white at my shoulders, changing to violet at my waist. Before heading downstairs, I had peeked into my parents' bedroom. Dad had been sleeping on his back where Mom had been on her side, her arms wrapped around him and her face pressed into his neck.

It had been nice to see them together for the week, out and about instead of staying in. I had even caught them on Friday sitting together at a table at the youth center's gymnasium while holding hands. I knew it was wrong to sneak around, but sometimes I couldn't help myself as they always seemed the closest when they thought no one was looking.

On my way out, I had quietly opened Nathan's bedroom door, finding him sprawled on the bed with Ace. Smirking, I had called out, "Nate?"

"Mmm," he had replied.

"Nate, want to help me make waffles?"

At that, he had managed to pick his head up, "Chocolate chip?"

"Sure."

I had expected Alfred to have already taken up his post in the kitchen, but we had found it to be empty. Being nearly eight in the morning, I had wondered if Dad had told him to take the day off given how much he had worked throughout the week. After washing my hands, I had started the process of collecting ingredients, the mixer as well as the Belgian waffle maker. Nathan and Ace had arrived and after he had taken the dog out, I had asked him if he had seen anyone else that morning.

"Mom was up, she said she'd be right down," he had answered with a shrug. He had gone about preparing Ace's food, evenly measuring out three cups from the pull-out cabinet and pouring them into the porcelain bowl.

After directing him to also wash up, I had him help me measure out the dry ingredients while I took care of the vanilla, butter, milk and eggs. Just as I had him pouring chocolate chips into the large bowl, I had heard my mother say, "And what are we doing in here?"

Nathan had answered "We're making waffles, Mom, with chocolate chips."

"Sounds delicious," she had walked over, kissing the top of my head before leaning over and doing the same to my little brother. I had turned around to look at her, confused to see she had make-up covering the dark bags beneath her bloodshot eyes. My assumption that she and Dad had gone to bed early was obviously wrong and I couldn't help but wonder if she knew about me getting in late.

She had joined our efforts, making a pot of coffee, a carafe of chocolate milk and bowl of sliced up bananas. I had asked about Alfred and Leslie and she had said that we could bring a tray up to them seeing how they were taking the day to themselves. When I inquired about Dad, she had smiled sadly, "He's still sleeping, kiddo."

"He went to bed before I did," Nathan had said while watching the waffle iron intensely.

I had glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it was nearly nine.

Something had turned in my stomach, making the smell of sweet waffles turn pungent.

I had offered to take Alfred and Leslie their breakfast but Mom had insisted she take care of it, seeing right through my ruse to go check on Dad. Nathan and I had eaten breakfast alone, Ace patiently laying at our feet in the nook. Mom had returned after a few minutes, smiling and asking about what we wanted to do that day, promising that we could pick anything we wanted.

"Can I get a new controller for the Wii," I had asked, "I think one of mine isn't working right."

She had nodded, "Sure… we can go to the Palisades mall, before it gets too busy. Then maybe we can have lunch out."

"What about Dad?" I had asked.

"He'll probably want to stay in, kiddo, he's had a pretty long week."

Before we had headed out, Alfred and Leslie had made their way to the ground floor, thanking us profusely for breakfast. I had inquired about their day and Leslie had explained that they had a luncheon to attend at the Clinic. Once I had put the waffle iron away, I had pointed out, "Well… Dad can't be here alone."

Mom had nodded, "You're right… we'll do lunch here then."

Once we had left the house, I had found myself relaxing. We had made it to the mall in time to find the perfect parking spot. Rather than simply head straight to the video game store, we perused the first floor, stopping in at stores randomly. Rather than simply buy a new controller so we could play Mario Kart with four people in my sitting room, Nathan and I left with a number of bags. Mom had bought us new jeans and sweaters, new sneakers for Nathan and a pair of suede boots for me. On the way home, we had stopped at the coffee shop, Nathan choosing a mint hot chocolate while Mom and I ordered lattes.

Making it back home, I had been surprised that it was only eleven in the morning. We had followed Mom upstairs and she had ushered us to put our things away. I had watched her from my door as she headed to the master bedroom, causing her to glance back, "I'll see what he wants to eat."

He had been in bed since nine the night before…

New clothes in my closet, I had gone to their room and pressed my ear against the door, hearing both of them talking with raised voices. Having been so focused on making out the words, I hadn't noticed Nathan approaching, "What are you doing?"

"Shh," I had said.

"Just go in," he had countered, opening the door without hesitation.

I had promptly headed to the elevator, making my way to the ground floor and to the kitchen. If they were arguing about what to do about me getting home late, I wanted to be prepared with bribery in the way of foodstuffs. As quickly as possible, I started to make lunch, grilling ham and cheese sandwiches and baking steak fries. Anything I could do to keep my hands busy and my mind from overflowing with questions.

Mom had found me ten minutes later, "You are right out of control today."

I had looked over at her once, "Where's Dad?"

She had nodded, "He's getting washed up, be down in a few."

Still looking at her, I had asked, "Am I in trouble?"

Mom had joined me at the stove, forcing a smile to her lips before nodding. She had then explained that he had gone down to the Cave the night before and had a seizure and had fallen. Leslie had kept him downstairs for observation until nearly four in the morning, waiting for Tim to return to help move him into bed. When I had bit down on my lip, she had offered, "He's fine… he just needed to rest."

I had refused to believe her until I had seen him walk into the kitchen, offering me a smile with, "Nate said I missed waffles… sorry about that, kitten."

The remainder of the day had been picture perfect. We had lunch in the den while playing Monopoly for nearly two hours, finally resulting in a showdown between Nathan and my father. I had wanted to ask about the bandage on his hand but didn't want to bring it up seeing how Nathan hadn't seemed to notice. During our capitalism adventures, Leslie and Alfred had departed for their luncheon, both offering Dad curt nods and smiles.

I had wanted to spend some alone time with Dad seeing how he had slept the morning away but after the game, he had headed back upstairs while we went back out for ice cream. Returning from my second venture of the day, I had spent some alone time in my room, once again calling Terry. I rehashed my productive day to him and he had joked that it was midday there and he hadn't done anything at all. Hanging up, I had finally decided it was time to do something actually worthwhile, something in the Cave.

Thankfully, Tim had been there and more than willing to put me through my paces. He drilled me in combat exercises, increasing the level of difficulty with a blindfold. Form there, he had decided to test my mind, introducing me to the world of automotive care. Working on the Batmobile with him had been more fun than I had anticipated, and I couldn't help but think that the boys in my class would be jealous.

Jealousy. That was the first thing I had thought when I spotted Dad approaching us in the Cave, the look on his face…

"Miss Mattie?"

I glanced over at Alfred and faked a smile.

Not long after Tim and I had come upstairs for a snack, he had gone back downstairs to talk to my dad in private. Before I could sneak down and see what the topic of interest was, Mom had found me in the kitchen for the third time that day, asking me to follow her.

"What's going on?"

"Nothing… just… I was thinking of ordering in for dinner, no need to stretch these leftovers, Alfred's going to give what's left to Ace."

I had explained that Tim and I were going to have sandwiches and a hash and she had smiled, "Here, let's clean this up… I'll get what everyone wants then I'll order…"

Kitchen spotless, we had navigated to the entertainment den where Nathan was watching a movie with Ace. Just as we had entered, Alfred had appeared, whispering something into Mom's ear. She had looked to me for a second, "Stay here with Alfred," before turning and leaving.

I had tried to follow her but Alfred had blocked me, "Nothing to fret over, my dear. I assure you."

I had joined my brother, pretending to enjoy whatever was on the screen but my mind was racing. I could have sworn that I saw headlights coming up the drive but Alfred had made no note of it. After thirty minutes, I honestly couldn't take it any longer.

"Alfred, I have to take my medicine," I said suddenly. It wasn't a lie seeing how I did have to take not only my pills but my inhaler dose.

He mulled over it silently, sitting upright in the chair adjacent to the couch. Finally, he nodded, "Very well, but try not to make and adventure out of it."

I immediately headed to the study, quickly entering and shutting the door behind me. Just as I made a move to the clock, I heard it clicking and saw it start to move. I dove behind the couch on the far side, covering my mouth as I listened. Dick's footsteps sounded, followed shortly by my mother and father's.

"I can do this Bruce, you should rest," Dick offered quietly.

"I've been in bed all day… and this is my responsibility. Not yours."

"Bruce," my mother cut in.

He responded, "It's not open for debate. Have Alfred prepare the room on the second floor. He'll know the one. It's already outfitted with locks and sensors."

Dick sighed, "You're always prepared, aren't you?"

I peered around the couch to see them staring at one another, each of them tenser then the next. Dad shook his head, "I'm not prepared to defile his grave… or to find it empty."

"She's wrong," Dick put a hand on my father's shoulder, "She has to be… Let me take care of this."

Dad shook his head, "I buried him. I'll dig him back up."

I sat back against the couch, my blood suddenly running cold. Hearing those words come from my father was not how I had wanted to end my perfect Saturday.

^V^

Passing Master Tim in the hall had been by pure accident. I had greeted him with a soft smile and an inquiry as to how his day had been but the look on his face had me asking, "Master Tim, what's happened?"

He had swallowed before asking his own question, "You haven't seen anything odd today… strange cars… anything out of the norm, have you?"

"No, sir. Although I was away for good portion of the afternoon."

"But they were home, right, Bruce and Selina?"

I had hesitated before replying, "Ms. Selina stepped out with the children briefly this afternoon, for no more than a half of an hour."

He swore, shaking his head, "That would have been more than enough…"

"Sir, if I may…"

Master Tim had finally found the will to look me in the eye, "Talia is in the Cave."

"I'll fetch my Winchester," I had offered with a nod.

"No… It hasn't come to that… not yet… Is Leslie here?"

"In my… our quarters, sir, reviewing grant proposals."

"Good… Bruce is down there with… her, in the Cave… Dick is on his way. I'm going to take him down when he gets here… I need you to send Selina to the study as soon as you see her."

"Very well, sir… and what shall I tell her?"

Shrugging, he had answered, "The truth."

I had immediately sought out Ms. Selina, catching her as she and Miss Mattie were entering the den. They both had recognized the worried look on my face, although I had only explained myself to Ms. Selina in a quiet whisper. Adding to Miss Mattie's growing concern, her mother only said for her to stay with me. As expected, the young girl tried to follow after her, but I had stepped in front of her, offering, "Nothing to fret over, my dear. I assure you."

I had told her mother the truth, but had blatantly lied to the girl's face.

Ms. Talia and her father's interactions with Master Bruce over the years had been a conglomeration of deceit and betrayal. They had kidnapped him, made many attempts on his life and those of his allies, and had used him as a pawn in numerous global schemes. Their last encounter had been fifteen years earlier, in which Ms. Talia had stolen encrypted files from Master Bruce in order to use his protocols on the members of the Justice League. It had resulted in once more losing track of Ra's and his daughter and also the Justice League voting Master Bruce out for having compiled the files in the first place.

Fifteen years of silence until Ms. Barbara had received the transmission of Ms. Talia begging for protection from her father and his unnamed ally.

Outwardly, I had appeared calm while enjoying a quiet moment with the children, but on the inside I was anything but. My mind had raced nearly as fast as my pulse, however my growing concern was not with how Ms. Talia had infiltrated the Cave. Instead, my thoughts had fluttered with concerns as to what her sudden presence meant for the safety of the Family. If she had escaped her father's control and had made it to Gotham, surely he would have been able to find her.

I had hated to admit it, but I was beyond the age where fighting off League of Assassin members was appealing.

For the better part of twenty minutes, Miss Mattie fidgeted on the loveseat, looking to her watch, the door, the bay windows and in my direction. Master Nathan's only movement had been slipping off of the couch to lay on the floor, using the dog as a pillow.

"Alfred, I have to take my medicine," Miss Mattie announced.

Remaining seated on the couch, I mused that she was most certainly going to investigate matters. There was no stopping the genetic will in her to seek out the facts, meaning there was no point in keeping her in the den. The Manor wasn't on lock down and the Cave contained her parents along with Master Dick and Tim.

Finally, I nodded, "Very well, but try not to make and adventure out of it," remaining silent as she departed.

Master Nathan looked up, "Where'd Mattie go?"

"To take her medication, sir."

He stuck his tongue out, "Gross," before looking back to the television.

Another painful twenty minutes passed before I heard footsteps approaching and hushed voices. The first to come clearly from the corridor belonged to Miss Mattie, "I said I was sorry."

I rose to my feet upon hearing Master Bruce say, "You were told to stay with Alfred and you didn't. There is no apology for that."

As they entered the den, I instantly became aware that Master Tim and Ms. Talia were not present. Given the angry look on her father's face, I began to cover for her actions, "I beg your forgiveness, sir. I had sent Miss Mattie to take her medication and to fetch a book for us to read… for when the movie ended."

"Don't cover for her, Alfred," Master Bruce snapped, ushering his daughter over to the couch, "Sit down, stay put." She planted herself heavily, crossing her arms over her chest.

Master Nathan sat up as did Ace, "What's going on?"

"You, too, tiger, up on the couch," Master Bruce patted the space beside his other child, watching quietly as the boy did as he was told.

Ms. Selina and Master Dick took to standing beside me, each of them clearly upset but to a varying degree. Master Dick appeared to be distraught while I sensed that Ms. Selina was fighting to hold back her temper. Whatever had transpired in the Cave had clearly been disturbing to both, and yet Master Bruce seemed only concerned for his daughter misbehaving.

Remaining on his feet, he waited to speak until all eyes were on him, young and old, "We have a visitor. She'll be staying with us for a while."

"Is it Dr. Shondra," Master Nathan asked.

His father shook his head, "No… this is… someone else. Someone I've known for a long time…" he glanced to his wife before continuing, "She just… she needs a place to stay."

"Why here?" Miss Mattie inquired once she found her voice.

"Because… she's scared. And she doesn't want to be alone."

Master Dick stepped forward, crouching in front of his younger brother, "If she went to a hotel. She'd be alone, wouldn't she?"

"That makes sense," the boy shrugged, "What's her name?"

Hesitating, the boy's father answered, "Her name is Talia."

"That's a funny name," Master Nathan remarked.

Miss Mattie, on the other hand, remained silent, her eyes growing wide. Master Dick noted it immediately and smiled, "It is a funny name… but don't say that to her… wouldn't want to hurt her feelings, would you, Nate?"

Ms. Selina shook her head, barely noticeable out of the corner of my eye, but I knew it wasn't out of agreement with Master Dick's words.

Staring up at her father, Miss Mattie asked, "Where is she?"

"Tim's showing her around," he answered, blatantly a lie. "Now… Your mother is going to take you two out to dinner… I'm going to stay here and help her… get settled in."

A solid cover for young Master Nathan, but I had considerable doubt that it would work as well on Miss Mattie.

When Master Bruce looked to his wife, she nodded, "Let's go upstairs and wash up. Then we'll go. Nate, why don't we go let Ace out first."

"Okay, come on, boy," he had patted the dog's head before leading the way into the hall. Ms. Selina hesitated, sending her husband an icy look before following her son.

Taking his absence to her advantage, Miss Mattie asked, "What's really going on?"

"Exactly what I just said," he replied, "And it doesn't change the fact that you didn't listen to your mother. Consider the rest of your weekend accounted for."

She shot to her feet so quickly that it caused Master Dick to jump, "That's not fair! Terry's been gone, I haven't seen him at all this week!"

"And you're not going to," he barked back, "You should know by now that your actions have consequences!"

"Bruce," Master Dick tried to interrupt.

"Don't," Miss Mattie retorted, walking towards me and the door, "He won't listen. He never does."

Master Bruce grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back to face him, "Mattie, trust me, this is not the time to test my patience. I tell you to do something, your mother tells you, you do it. You've tested enough boundaries already."

Before my eldest charge lost his temper in its entirety, I stepped forward, "Sir, allow me to take her upstairs. Come, Miss Mattie."

Ushering her to the door, I heard Master Bruce say, "Prepare the second floor bedroom for Talia."

"Very good, sir."

I led the way to the elevator, not certain as to the best way to approach Miss Mattie's apparent mood. She had read of Ms. Talia and her father's activities but I doubted she had any knowledge of the personal details not in the reports and logs. As we reached the elevator, she finally broke the silence, "Who did Dad bury?"

Caught completely off guard, I pressed the button for the third floor before replying, "I beg your pardon?"

"When I snuck into the study, they were coming up from the Cave… talking about digging up someone that he buried... Who is it?"

My heart had navigated to rest in the middle of my throat, keeping me from responding until the elevator doors opened. Stepping out warily, I finally managed to say, "Master Jason… your father and I… we buried him."

Ra's al Ghul, the Demon's Head, had lived for centuries, resurrecting himself and others using the coveted Lazarus Pit.

Master Bruce was going to-.

My chest grew tight as she asked, "Why would he dig him up?"

Feeling tears welling, I looked back to the elevator while speaking, "You best get ready for dinner, my dear."

"Alfred?" she asked as I depressed the second floor button.

"Please, Miss Mattie," I offered, still not able to look back.

Arriving on the next floor down, I quickly walked to the secure bedroom Master Bruce had put into place many years earlier. In the event he had an unsavory guest that needed monitoring, the room was outfitted with audio and visual recording devices, motion sensors and a impenetrable locking system, supported by lead lined walls, floor and ceiling. Despite all of the effort that had been put into it, the times it had been used were reduced to hiding gifts, from the Family and from Mr. Kent.

Stopping at the linen closet, I retrieved fresh bedding and towels before making my way to the room. My quarters were on the far end of the hall, fifty yards away. Entering the room, I set the materials down before taking a seat on the bare mattress, my hand rising to cover my mouth. Even without knowing the reason behind exhuming the late Master Jason, it still resonated as being vile and traumatic. Not eighteen years ago, we had laid his broken and battered body to rest, and I had desired nothing more than to leave him in eternal peace.

"Alfred? What's wrong?"

Glancing up, I spotted Leslie approaching, instantly taking a seat beside me. It was only when she reached up to wipe my cheek that I realized I had been crying.

I was the rock…

"Leslie…" I managed before letting the words pour out of me, explaining that the Family was at unrest once again. Her face grew concerned as well, although it was difficult to say whether she was more upset to learn about Ms. Talia's presence or Master Bruce's intentions.

"He must have a reason, Alfred, you know he wouldn't even think of it he didn't."

"You're right," I exhaled heavily, trying to regain my composure, "There must be a reason… I just hope whatever lie that woman has fed him is true."

She rubbed my back, "Go… I'll take care of this."

Much like Master Bruce, there was no persuading Leslie to drift once her mind was set.

I saw the children and Ms. Selina off, wishing them a pleasant evening despite the foul taste in my mouth. From there, I had slowly donned my coat and gloves to prepare for the cold, night air. After stepping outside, I had looked to the starlit sky and muttered, "Please, lord… give him strength."

In the mere thirty minutes we had been apart, Masters Bruce and Dick had already retrieved the backhoe from the grounds keeping shed and had driven it to the family cemetery. I heard its growling engine long before it came into view. Each step I took up the hill had been torture, my body spent from physical and emotional duress. Reaching the knoll, I expected Master Bruce to be running on his last straw as well, compiled from his spill the night before and the week that had preceded it.

Instead, I found Master Dick standing by the massive mound of dirt, his eyes finding me in the darkness, "I can't get him to stop, Alfred…"

Coming to stand beside him, I looked down into the tattered remains of the grave to see Master Bruce frantically shoveling away spent dirt. He had pulled off his shirt and sweater, his back glistening with sweat in the light from the backhoe. I called out to him, but he only shoveled more quickly.

"You're not thinking straight, Bruce," Dick said over the engine.

Only heaving breaths came from below, along with the sound of metal cutting through dirt.

"That's it," Master Dick jumped down, landing two feet behind Master Bruce, "I'm not carrying you back to the house when you collapse. Just-."

Metal hit metal.

"Bruce, you need to calm down," he started again.

Master Bruce looked to his eldest for a moment but said nothing before returning to clearing off the head of the stainless steel casket. Even still mostly covered in dirt, I recognized the glossy dark blue surface, instantly sending me back twenty years to the horrid day I had purchased it.

Master Bruce straddled the lower half of the coffin, proceeding to clear the edges with his hands, the dirt sticking to the sweat covering his arms and torso. Before Master Dick could further urge his mentor to regain his bearings first, Master Bruce took a deep breath before breaking the lock open with the blade of the shovel.

He drew in a long breath before pulling back the top panel.

We each responded differently to the sight before us. Master Dick swore loudly, turning to look away. I found myself staring down, mouth gaped in utter horror. Master Bruce simply sat down on the lower half of the casket, shaking his head while pleading softly, "No, no… Please… no."

^V^

I vaguely recalled Alfred leading me back to the house, leaving Dick behind to check for two decade old evidence in the empty coffin of Jason Todd.

The elevator ride to the third floor had not even registered in my mind, leaving me to suddenly enter the master bedroom without warning. I felt him undress me and usher me into the shower, all a fog until I realized I was sitting on the bed, wearing my robe and flannel pants. Leslie was there, injecting something into the crease of my arm and telling me to lay down. I was drowsy, but remained upright, staring through the faces that passed before my eyes.

I heard Dick's voice asking me if I was all right, but I wasn't sure if I had responded or not. He stayed with me, sitting right next to me, talking to Alfred and Leslie and eventually to Tim when he arrived. Although I knew Selina had taken the kids out, I kept asking where she was. Someone said something about Talia being secure for the night but I didn't respond.

Talia had told truth.

Her father had taken Jason's remains, resurrected them and then proceeded to keep my dead son to raise as his own. He had turned him into a monster, one frightening enough to scare her to run half way around the world.

… _His new ally is a vile man…_

"Sir?" Alfred called quietly.

_I could barely look at him without thinking of you, and what you endured for him…_

"Bruce?" I felt Dick shift beside me.

… _Before and after he died… Beloved, please…_

"Bruce…" Leslie finally brought me out of it.

I jumped to my feet, "I need to talk to her."

They all stepped back, surprised at my sudden movement. Dick rose to his feet while nodding, "Okay… I'll go with you."

Shaking my head, I responded quietly, "No. I need to talk to her alone."

"Bruce," Tim started, "That's not a good idea, and you know it."

"If she was sent here to kill me, I'd be dead," I paused before asking, "Has Selina returned?"

"Down the hall, sir, with the children… playing in Miss Mattie's room."

I nodded, drawing the robe tighter around me. Despite the climate controlled air and the warm material, I still couldn't shake the cold feeling that had set into my bones. Stepping into the hall, Dick proceeded to follow me, all of the way to the elevator. As I waited for the car's arrival, I allowed myself to glance over, assessing the worried look on his face.

"Bruce… I'm… so sorry."

I quickly directed my eyes straight ahead, "You didn't do it."

"You know what I meant."

Changing the topic slightly, I asked, "Have you told Barbara?"

He nodded, "Yeah. And she's brought Cass up to speed, said she was going to start patrols early… Babs hasn't found anything on record in August, are you sure it was-."

"Yes. I'm sure…. The date Talia was referring to was around Jas… his birthday." When the doors opened, I stepped in and added, "Don't follow me."

Although he opened his mouth to speak, he sighed and nodded.

Stepping off on the second floor, I hesitated before walking towards her room. Every step I took was agony, making me wish I had swallowed my pride long enough to grab my cane from the master bedroom or at least had the sense to take a dose of Ibuprofen. After frantically digging, my back shoulders were already tight and unyielding, leaving me to knock lower on the door than usual.

There was a pause before the door was pulled back, revealing Talia in a dark blue, silk robe. She had washed her face clean of makeup and pulled her long hair back in to a loose bun, leaving the lock loose to cover her scar. Upon realizing it was me, a sad smile made it's way to her lips.

Without saying a word, I stepped into the room, letting her shut it behind me. As she turned to face me, I heard the questions echoing in my mind but I was unable to pick which one to start with. Observant as ever, she had recognized the turmoil, gesturing to the bed, "Please, sit… you look terrible."

"I'd rather not."

"Very well," she sighed before sitting alone, adjusting the robe around her figure.

I stared at her for a long, silent minute. Then finally, "Jason Todd's grave is empty."

"I know. And I'm so so-."

"You said your father's men took… the remains when you came after Qayin. Did you know that was his plan? Is that why you brought me to your father?"

She nodded, her eyes already glassy.

"When did he…" I inhaled, unable to even say the words aloud.

"It was after my father killed Qayin… after you had returned to the States. He wanted to be certain before proceeding."

"Certain of what?" I asked, my eyes glancing to the bed with my leg throbbing nearly as badly as my back.

She stood, "He wanted to be certain how badly it had affected you, the loss of your protégé." Talia hesitated before reaching out and touching my chest, just as she had done in the Cave earlier, "My father decided that after what had happened… between us… that it was necessary, to bring him back to life, to bring him back to you."

"Your father has known me long enough to know that I would never want that, for myself or anyone."

Tears slipped over her cheeks for the second time that night, "I tried to talk him out of it, you must believe me. I knew it would only upset you, that it would make you suffer more than you already had."

I leaned over, putting my face inches from hers, "You just told me my son is alive, after I buried him twenty years ago. I had dig up his grave and look down at his empty casket… And yet you waited all this time to tell me…" Her tears came more freely as I pushed her hand away, "You have not spared me an ounce of suffering, Talia."

"Beloved, I-."

"I told you not to call me that," I reminded her in a cool tone.

She nodded, muttering an apology.

I wanted to demand every detail from her, for her to recreate every day Jason had presumably spent at her father's side. I wanted her to answer the thousands of questions still flashing in my mind. Why had Ra's not sent him to me? Why had Ra's never flaunted it in my face in our final encounters? What had she meant by his training Jason? To be in the League of Assassins or to one day rule the empire of the Demon's Head? Did Ra's intend to marry them as a means of getting back at me or to simply reward Jason for his accomplishments?

Had Jason dealt her the scar that marked her face or had her father?

Somehow, I managed to keep them contained. When I didn't ask her anything more, she inquired, "Is that the end of my interrogation?"

"For tonight. Have you eaten?"

"Yes, Alfred-."

"Then you're set until morning. I'll activate the locks once I'm outside," I announced while heading to the door. At the rate my body was protesting, I was barely going to be able to make it back to the elevator.

"I would feel safer if I wasn't trapped in a cell," she said, delicately wiping her eyes with her hands.

I paused after opening the door, turning back to face her, "This is as safe as you'll ever be in this house." Closing the door behind me, I moved the oil painting on the wall, revealing an access pad. Placing my palm on it, it scanned and approved before waiting for the vocal clearance and accompanying command, "Locks on."

The deadbolts slid home, deafeningly loud in the quiet corridor. When I pivoted to make the long walk back to the elevator, I stopped mid-step to see Selina waiting for me, holding the car doors open. She watched as I approached, doing my best to move as normally as possible. The second I joined her, she let the doors close and pressed the button to head up. In silence, we arrived at the third floor and proceeded down the hall, bypassing our bedroom.

Forcing a smile to my lips, I went into Nathan's room and kissed him goodnight. He asked where Talia was and I explained that she had already gone to bed. The answer seemed to sate him and he promptly asked, "Can I watch TV?"

"I think you've had enough TV for one day, tiger," I nodded to the book on his bedside table.

He sighed and reached for the paperback copy of The BFG. Selina kissed him as well, "I'll come back and read with you, Nate, why don't you get started."

Following her out of the room, I paused at Mattie's door tentatively reaching for the knob, grasping it. The unforeseen events of that evening had clouded my judgment, yelling at her when I should have been putting her worries to rest. Exhaling, I let go of it, walking away without even knocking.

When I passed into our room, Selina stopped briefly to close the double doors behind her. The claw marks on my hand burned from being aggravated and I stepped into the bathroom to dress them with more antibiotic ointment. As expected, Selina followed, remaining in the doorway, still silent, still staring.

As I grabbed the tube off of the counter, I noticed for the first time that there was dirt under my nails. Looking more closely, I spotted the soil embedded in the cracks between my thumbs and forefingers along with tiny pieces of grit caught in old scars. My catatonic shower had rinsed off the grime and sweat, but hadn't been able to wash away everything.

I set the tube down, opting instead to turn the faucet on, letting the warm water spill over both hands. As I lathered a bar soap between my palms, Selina finally said, "I don't want her meeting my children."

"Our children," I corrected her, turning the hot water on enough to bring forth steam.

"They don't need to have any dealings with her."

Without looking up, I started raking my nails into the soap, feeling the pressure in the cuticles, "I don't know how long she'll be here, Selina. Could be days, weeks… and if what she said is true, then we need her here for as long as it takes to get every detail. Where her father is, what his plans are…"

Crossing her arms over her chest, Selina paused before pointing out, "And you're just going to let her stay? Just like that?"

"She's safer here, just as we are safer with her here," I sighed, my hands pink from the heat and friction.

There was another pause before she sighed, "The way she looks at you… that's the way I look at you."

I glanced up briefly before directing my eyes back to my hands, starting to scrape my nails over my skin in order to get the dirt out. "She meant something to me once, yes… now she's a way to get to the bottom of things. Nothing more."

"Bruce," I watched her step forward.

"It was a mistake. She loved me but she loved her father more… I was weak. Jason had just died, Tim had yet to come forward… I had no one…"

"Bruce, stop it," she put a hand on my forearm.

I snapped my head up and continued, "No… you want to know… She was there, she made me feel… for the first time since Jason died, she had made me feel human."

"Bruce, stop it, your hands…" she tried to pull them from the sink, where I had scrubbed and clawed enough to rip the scabs off of the scratches.

Thinking of Jason's blood on my hands, I held my ground, scouring even harder as a tightness started rising in my throat. Somehow, I choked the words out, "I can't… wash away the dirt. Should have… There's just too much… too much… blood."

My body finally gave in, my legs literally buckling out from under me. Selina did what she could to keep me from falling, but ended up going down with me. Sitting against the counter, she leaned over and wrapped her arms around me, letting me bury my face into her neck. I was bleeding all over the bathroom for the second time that day, although I made no attempt to staunch it.

She whispered words into my ear, kissed my brow, rubbed my back.

Anything to get me to stop crying.

^V^


	7. Come What May:  VII

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family confronts Talia and must debate whether or not to trust her.

Infringements: All recognizable and related characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: References to Son of the Demon.

^V^

I had endured enough living nightmares in my forty-seven years to last me ten lifetimes.

Fourteen years earlier, I had cried myself to sleep thinking the only man I had ever loved had been slain by a drug dealer's bullet. Not long after, I had to take my then two-year-old daughter to the hospital to be treated for an asthma attack. Then, after being placated by normalcy for years, I had been overrun with images and footage of Dick killing a bank robber turned cop killer.

While my son-in-law celebrated his marriage with my dearest friend, my son had born two months premature, leaving him in a NICU incubator and me barren.

Somehow, I had stood by bravely as my husband endured cluster headaches and suffered the side effects from the radiation necessary to end them. Jim Gordon, a man who I had once loathed and had become Family to me, had been laid to rest days after he had sat at my table for Thanksgiving brunch. His son, future daughter-in-law and first born granddaughter had been attacked by a mad man while they slept in their beds. The same monster had put Will, Dick and Cass in gurneys and had also left my husband crippled, deaf and brain damaged.

And yet despite it all, the most horrifying thing that I had ever witnessed had been watching Bruce literally ripping at his flesh while trying to get rid of the dirt on his hands. No not just dirt, the soil that had presumably filled the grave of his adopted son, one who had been dead for twenty years…

"Bruce, stop it, your hands…" was the last thing I said before he lost it.

He was already more upset than I had seen him in years, his voice a low growl but his breathing anything but regular. His eyes glued down on his bloody hands, Bruce continued scrubbing and clawing at them despite my futile efforts of trying to pull them out of the sink. Tears were brewing in his eyes and I knew it wasn't from the pain.

Somehow, he managed to reply, his words as staggered as his breathing, "I can't… wash away the dirt. Should have… There's just too much… too much… blood."

There was a moment when I thought he was going to lean over the sink to regroup, but instead he collapsed to the floor, not even making an attempt to grab for the counter. I found myself gripping tighter on his arm, pulling as hard as I could against his two hundred pound frame. As expected, he ended up pulling me down with him but thankfully my efforts kept him crashing face first. He managed to fall to one knee before rolling onto his side, practically landing in my lap as I found myself sitting against the sink.

"Shhh," I kept repeating, wrapping my arms around his back and pulling him to me. At first, he had his face in my neck, his struggling breaths practically in my ear. Without him supporting his own weight, gravity finally pulled him down so that he lay flat out on the floor, his head in my lap. His back heaved with wet sobs as I felt my shirt grow damp, although I wasn't sure if it was from tears or blood.

"Ms. Selina, the children are… Oh heavens," Alfred's voice came from the bedroom. Belying his age, he swiftly ran into the bathroom grabbing a hand towel while looking for a seeping injury to place it on, "What's happened?"

Still defying the odds and remaining calm, I explained what had happened, unearthing Bruce's left hand as it was pressed against my abdomen. Alfred handed me the towel, his eyes practically bewildered at the sight before him. As I wrapped the ragged middle finger, he spoke barely above a whisper before leaving, "I'll fetch Leslie."

The three and a half minutes I spent waiting for him to return had been the longest in my life. I kept rubbing Bruce's back, each sob escaping his lips slicing right through me. He was the strongest man I had ever known, able to stand tall and brave against the greatest of tragedies. Without an ounce of self-doubt, he had protected Gotham for two decades, facing off with the worst of the underworld, a plague that had claimed hundreds of thousands of people and an earthquake that had leveled nearly every building on the skyline.

He would jump into a burning building when no other would, he would take on dozens armed men alone without blinking and would rather sacrifice himself than let harm befall a single human being.

But even the greatest of men had their weaknesses. And apparently it was having to dig up the grave of a teenaged boy, opening his coffin and finding it empty.

"Oh my," I heard Leslie say. She quickly entered the bathroom and took to kneeling behind Bruce's back, syringe and vial in hand. Alfred opted to remain standing, opening the black leather bag and waiting for direction from his other half.

Somehow, Bruce remained completely unaware as Leslie quietly spoke to him while pulling out a dose of five cc's. Although the sobs had lessened, his breathing was still coming in ragged breaths, almost as if he was on the verge of hyperventilating. As guilty as it seemed, I was grateful that I couldn't see his face, knowing it would have finally cut through whatever emotional armor I had left.

She leaned forward and pulled Bruce's left arm back in order to access the cuboidal vein. I kept a hold of the towel on his hand as she pressed the plunger, "I gave him lorazepam when he came in earlier. Obviously I underestimated how bad he was…"

"What's this?" I asked.

Leslie answered, "Hydroxyzine hydrochloride. Should take a couple of minutes to kick in but it will put him out for a few hours… God knows he isn't going to rest on his own anytime soon."

We watched in silence as the tension in his back slowly ebbed, Leslie waiting to examine his hand until he was comfortable. Within eight minutes, the only sound in the room was his long drags of oxygen. Leslie tentatively unwrapped the toweled hand, shaking her head at the dried blood. As he had been violently scrubbing it earlier, I had been unable to ascertain the extent of the damage, barely even noticing how much blood was everywhere.

"Alfred, can you-."

"Of course," Alfred nodded curtly before carefully searching through the bag, unearthing a blue cotton wrapped suture kit and a sterile saline irrigator. He held on to the kit as Leslie proceeded to don a pair of latex gloves. Taking the dispenser from him, she gently rinsed the wound on his middle finger.

I finally looked down, holding back a cringe as she said, "He's ripped this down to the bone, here on the knuckle…"

"It was just a scratch before… from the cat," I found myself explaining.

"Well, I'll flush it and dress it here but I want to get him into better lighting before I stitch it."

Alfred set the kit on the edge surrounding the tub, "I'll find Master Tim."

"He's still here?" I asked.

Pausing at the doorway, Alfred nodded, "He and Master Dick have decided to stay for the evening."

Opting out of patrols to watch over the Manor. To keep an eye on Talia. To be there for Bruce.

Good soldiers.

While waiting for Alfred to bring yet another figure in to see Bruce on the bathroom floor, I watched on as Leslie flushed the wound and packed it with wet gauze. I absently stroked my hand through his still damp hair, my fingers accidentally finding the knotted spot on the back of his head.

"Selina?"

"Hmm," I looked up at Leslie.

She offered a sad smile before saying, "I asked if he had any seizure activity, when he fell?"

For some reason, I whispered in response, "No… he… we were just talking and he… he just started… with his hands and I tried to stop him but…"

"It's okay," she gently set Bruce's arm down on his side, removing her latex glove before reaching out and touching my shoulder. After a beat, she continued, "We'll get him to bed, fix his hand, let him sleep through tonight… Start fresh in the morning."

"I hate to say it, but a good night's sleep isn't going to change anything."

"No… but it does help delay the inevitable."

I smirked and let my eyes fall back to Bruce, "Suppose that's true."

Tim and Alfred returned not a minute later, their silent concern suggesting that Alfred had had already explained matters. While Tim helped Leslie to her feet, I carefully slipped out from under Bruce, gently setting his head down as if not to wake him. Tim forced a smile and joked about Bruce needing to go on a diet as he hefted him up and into his arms. Despite being nearly thirty years old, I still saw Tim as the young boy I had once teased incessantly. Watching him lift Bruce and carry him out, putting him in bed for the second night in a row, there was no doubt that the boy was a man grown.

He opted to remain nearby standing beside Alfred and watching silently as Leslie cleaned the wound again and proceeded to close it with nine stitches. I chose to sit on the other side of Bruce, my eyes hardly leaving his face. Leslie assured me that she had administered enough to knock him out for a few hours and that when he woke, she would re-evaluate him and either sedate him again or administer his anti-convulsant. Bruce hadn't so much as flinched since he had gone under in the bathroom, an unnerving calmness on his face.

"Well, that should do for now," Leslie rose to her feet while wrapping the used tools and soiled gauze in the small blue sterile draping. "I'll check back at midnight… if he wakes before then, let me know."

Sitting back against the stack of pillows, I nodded, "Thank you, Leslie."

"We'll start him on antibiotics in the morning...just try and get some rest yourself, he's not going anywhere."

I reached out and touched his still shoulder, "I know."

After she left, I found myself looking up to Tim who hadn't said a word in the last fifteen minutes. Gazing around the room, I also realized that Alfred was absent and I wasn't sure when exactly he had left. I asked quietly, "Where's Alfred?"

"Oh… he went to make up rooms for me and Dick. I told him not to seeing how I doubt either of us plan on sleeping."

"You don't have to stay tonight."

He shook his head, stepping forward, "That's where you're wrong. We do. It will piss him off to no end, but… Really, that's half of the fun."

Smirking, I looked back to Bruce, "He will be pissed, won't he?"

Tim took a seat on the edge of the bed beside Bruce's left hip, "Yeah, I'm looking forward to a good Wayne berating..." Silence fell over the room again before he sighed, "When Alfred came to get me… I thought he had another seizure… After he told me what actually happened... I almost wish that had been the case."

I remained silent, fighting every urge to breakdown emotionally as my husband had.

"I'm sorry," he continued, "It's just… My head is spinning from all of this. It's bad enough to find Talia in the Cave but now with Jason… Dick said he was in a trance when they were out there, wouldn't listen to him… and that it was even worse after they found it empty."

Thankfully, I had been with the kids, trying to pretend that tragic lightning was striking the Family once again. The mere thought of Bruce frantically digging in Jason's grave was just as bad as actually picturing it or worse, witnessing it. Alfred and Dick had been there for him, whether he had been able to acknowledge them or not. They all were there for him while I had been in hiding.

"Selina?"

I reached up and wiped at my eyes, "I just wish the world would stop testing him… After all he's done and even now he can't find peace…"

Seeing how Bruce wasn't able to say the words to make it all better, Tim acted on his behalf, "I think he sees it the other way around. That the world tests him because he's the only one strong enough to endure it."

Staring at Bruce's face, I shook my head, "I don't think he is… not now, not with something like this."

"None of us are…" he cleared his throat as he stood from the bed, "But if anyone is, it's him. You know that." Tim put a hand on Bruce's forearm before leaving, "I'll be on the second floor, room next to hers. If you need me."

Although I wanted to thank him, my throat was too tight to get any words out.

I waited until the door had closed before slipping off of the bed and crossing to the bathroom. Expecting the abattoir we had left, I took a breath before stepping in and hitting the light switch. The counter and sink were not caked in blood, but glossy and spotless. The soiled towel and blood spattered rug were missing, leaving the room looking as if nothing had happened. As if I hadn't watched my husband have an nervous breakdown…

Of course, I thought, Alfred would have miraculously cleaned it while everyone's focus was diverted.

I took a long shower, trying to convince myself that it was all a bad dream. I would return to bed and Bruce would wrap an arm around my shoulders and hold me close. And there wasn't a vile woman sleeping in my house, having come under the pretense that my Family was going to protect her.

Under different circumstances, I may have attributed my feelings towards Talia as sheer jealously. When Bruce had come clean to me after the DJG banquet in August, I had resisted badgering him with questions about her, going about it by asking more about his encounters with Ra's. Granted, she had come into play in the few conversations we had on the subject but had never been the focus. Our relationship had never been normal in nature and pressuring him to divulge on his previous romances would have been very normal. He had never asked me about my life before him and I had returned the gesture.

But my old flame wasn't sleeping in a bedroom under the same roof as Bruce.

And none of them were the heirs to an immortal world dominating monster…

I wanted to don Bruce's robe but then realized we had left it on the bathroom floor before moving him into bed, leaving it for Alfred to take. Opting for a towel, I pinned up my hair before heading to the walk-in closet, randomly grabbing a pair of cotton shorts and one of Bruce's long sleeved tee-shirts. Before returning to the bed, I turned the overhead lights off, leaving only the dim glow from the bedside lamps.

"Hey, you," I smirked, spotting Kitten curled up on my pillow. Lifting him, I scratched his chin before setting him down on the floor, "Think you've lost your bed privileges after this morning, mister."

Pulling back the covers, I slipped in beside Bruce but chose not to touch him. Instead, I rolled away from him, laying on my side while drawing my legs up. When Kitten jumped back onto the bed, I snared an arm around him and pulled him to me, suddenly missing my late black feline companion. Where Isis had loved to snuggle in close, Kitten had always been one to resist, usually bolting the second a human had more than two hands on him.

Which was why I was surprised when he conformed to me, purring while rubbing his chin on my knuckles.

And that was when I lost it, letting the tears flow and the silent sobs escape.

I was angry, scared, tired and worst of all, alone.

At some point, I fell asleep, the cat finally escaping my grasp. I was expecting to wake when Leslie came back at midnight to check on Bruce, to the sound of her and Alfred whispering softly. At the very least, I anticipated hearing the door open softly, with Dick or Tim or possibly even both sneaking a glance in to make sure he was okay.

What I wasn't prepared for was feeling Bruce press his chest to my back, to have his arms snake around me while putting his lips on my ear.

"Am I dreaming?" I asked.

"No," he whispered. After a long pause, he asked, "Was I?"

Although I wished I could say otherwise, I replied, "No."

^V^

Walking into the Cave a little after seven, I was confused to find it empty. Tim had gone ahead to work with Mattie and at the very least, he should have been suiting up or at the computer. Thinking he may have headed out without me, I jogged down to the garage but spotted all of the cycles in place as well as the Mobile. Oddly enough, one of the older cars was pulled out into the middle of the floor, tool boxes laying out in the open. Checking the training bag, the costume vault and returning to the center of the main tier, I sighed in confusion.

"Cass?"

I glanced around to see Barbara on the main monitor, the green image quickly fading to reveal her true face. Approaching the computer, I asked, "Where's Tim?"

She sighed as well, "Long story short… Talia broke into the Cave."

My muscles tensed on their own, "What? How did she get in?"

"The old barn entrance. Tim took her back out there to make sure everything is secure and to replace a few sensors she fried."

Although the answer was obvious, I still asked, "And Bruce knows?"

Barbara nodded, "He was the first one to see her. I guess he came down to the Cave just as Tim and Mattie were going upstairs. Decided to wait for Tim to come back down to talk and then Talia chose to come out of hiding."

A cave that big, there were ample places to hide, especially for someone who was good enough to escape from Ra's al Ghul.

"Bruce sounded the alarm to get Tim to come back down… when I got it, I sent Dick up."

"Where are they now?"

"Upstairs, talking with the kids and Alfred and Leslie."

"And Selina?" I found myself asking.

"Bruce had Tim and Dick bring her down so everyone could meet… She is not impressed… especially since Bruce intends for Talia to stay in the Manor, albeit in the secure room." She paused, adjusting a lock of hair before continuing, "Cass… Not that it really matters now, but did he ever tell Bruce, about the note?"

"Said he was going to, but he never said if he had."

She bit her lower lip briefly, "Well, I know I won't reference it, just in case. Let's hope Talia doesn't either."

In silence, I suited up, filling my utility belt and checking Tim's as well. Leaving Nightwing's spare belt untouched, I reasoned that Dick would likely sit patrols out in order to stand guard over the Manor. Pulling my cowl into place, I heard soft voices echoing, leading me to approach the open door of the costume vault with caution.

Peering out, I spotted Tim climbing up the steel steps from the garage bay, the look on his face a combination of anger and worry. Coming right up after him was the woman who had been lurking in the back of our minds for months. Having never faced off with her, I had spent the early part of summer reading up and studying her dossiers in order to prepare for the inevitable. She had superior training in hand to hand combat and was as comfortable wielding a sword as she was an AK-47. Despite all of her physical skills, Bruce had noted in her files that her most dangerous abilities revolved around manipulating people, including himself.

Tim paused at the center of the main floor, where I had been standing not fifteen minutes earlier. Talia stood before him, crossing her arms over her abdomen, "I would not lie to him, not about something so dire."

Glaring down at her, Tim snapped, "You better not be… He's digging that coffin up right now."

An awful look came over her face, one she was quick to cover with a hand, "Do you not realize how difficult it has been… not being able to tell him for so many years?"

"You've had plenty of opportunities, starting with the transmission. Or you could have said so in your little note. Instead, we've been running in circles for months trying to figure out what the hell was going on."

She dropped her hand, choosing to point at his chest, "How dare you-?"

"What? It's the truth. And you better damn well stick to it."

"Are you threatening me?" she cocked her head slightly.

"No, just giving you a warning."

Talia smirked before saying, "So protective of him… of this family… no wonder he gave you the cowl."

Seeing Tim's back tense, I decided to leave the concealment of the vault, giving myself away with my boots landing heavily on the stone floor. They both looked in my direction, Tim stepping forward while Talia remained in place. When I reached him, Tim paused, glancing back briefly to our unwanted guest before looking back to me, "Let me explain…"

"Oracle did."

Tim nodded, "Ah… well, I'm going to go up and get her into the secure room, go check on Bruce."

"Oracle didn't say… anything about digging."

The sad look that had crossed Talia's face found its way to his. Something cold settled in my stomach as I waited for his response. Tim finally put a hand on my shoulder, light enough that I could barely feel it through the tunic and cape, "We'll talk later, okay?"

I shook my head, "No."

He sighed and then offered, "Fine… According to her… Ra's took the body of Jason Todd not long after he had been buried. He resurrected him… that's the ally Talia spoke of in the transmission, the man her father's been training, the man he wants her to marry."

"You believe her?"

Nodding, he let go of my shoulder and said, "Dick and Bruce are verifying that the grave is empty. We'll go from there."

I looked over at Talia, still standing, earnestly pretending not to be eavesdropping. Without making an attempt to keep my voice quiet, I asked, "What about patrols?"

"You can head out now, I'll join you once I know things are in order here."

My eyes returned to her again, only to find her looking back at me.

"Cass?"

When she smirked, I nodded, "Fine. See you out there."

For two hours, I navigated the city on my cycle, traveling between boroughs and districts, doing whatever I could to keep my mind and body busy. Although I checked in regularly with Barbara, there had been no word from Tim. At one point, I asked her what his location was and she said, "Actually, I was just going to patch him through to you."

"Okay," I replied. After taking out a trio of miscreants stalking unsuspecting people in the theater district, I had been waiting on my cycle, hidden in a small service alleyway.

After a click sounded in my ear, I heard Tim sigh. I hated when he sighed. It meant he was sad.

"What's wrong?" was my first response.

"I'm not going to be able to come out."

Not entirely surprised, I repeated my question, "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"Sort of… the coffin was empty."

"She told the truth, then. That's a good thing."

There was a moment of silence before he replied, "In a way, I guess it is. But this means that Ra's does have Jason… alive. And that he intends to use him against us."

Another pause lapsed before I asked, "So that's it, that's why you're staying?"

"No, that's not why…" I heard rustling on the other end, and then, "Bruce… he lost it… after digging up the… he was in a trance when he came back in the house, I guess… and then after he spoke with Talia… he-."

"Another seizure?" my voice was tight with worry. Tim had explained the night before how Alfred had called him over in order to help put an unconscious Bruce to bed. In the span of three days he had two severe episodes, the second being complicated with a fall in the Cave. When he had finally returned home, he had been all too quiet slipping under the covers beside me. Despite months of coming to terms with the changes in our lives, he still carried tremendous guilt for Bruce's condition.

His voice brought me back, "No… more like a panic attack… a meltdown." My throat closed up, preventing me from responding, regrettably encouraging him to continued, "Leslie has him sedated for now… But I can't leave him, I'm sorry."

Talia was right when she said he was protective of Bruce. I finally managed to say, "Don't be. It's quiet. I'll manage."

Tim cleared his throat quietly, then suggested, "Well, I was going to run next door and grab Robbie… if you want, when you get done, we can stay here. Hate to abandon you on patrols and then at home."

"Okay," I said as a tone sounded on the scanner. Armed robbery, Armand's Liquor and Wine three blocks away. "Gotta go."

Desiring a direct approach as possible, I sped the short distance, sticking mostly to the near empty sidewalks. Rather than waste time stopping the cycle, pulling out the kickstand and then entering the store, I opted to drive right through the glass door. Two men in leather coats, ratty jeans and black ski masks had handguns aimed at large Italian man as he frantically emptied the register into a paper bag.

The assailants swore in near unison as the glass door shattered, having only a fraction of a second to pivot towards me before I leapt straight up from the bike. As it toppled over and proceeded to slide across the floor, it swiped out displays of cheap wine and both of the armed men. Even with the bike pinning their legs down, they still tried to fight back, the larger man still holding on to his weapon and daring to aim it at me. I landed between them, striking them down before rapidly snapping bones in their wrists to make holding their weapons at that moment and in the near future unsavory.

Looking to the clerk, I noticed he was standing in utter shock, mouth gaped open and staring at me in awe. I was about to ask him if he was all right but he stared waving his arms around, swearing rapidly in Italian. From the words I was able to make out, he was not impressed that I hadn't used the door properly.

Oops.

Binding the men together, I exited as quickly as I had entered, although I waited to start the cycle until I was back on the street. Once I was off, I opened a link on the Oracom, "Oracle?"

"Did you-?"

"Done. And I owe him a new door."

Barbara sighed, "You and your theatrics… All right, I'll see what I can do, maybe I can up the insurance pay out…" I ran a red light, moving quickly into the rough streets of the Bowery before she proceeded, "Sorry everyone bailed on you."

"No, it's okay… might call it early anyway."

"Of course," she replied.

Both us knew that it wouldn't be the case. And it wasn't. Muggings, robberies, carjacking, assaults, fires, shootouts and drug dealings. Little in the grand scheme, but it made an impact on the victims' lives, something I had learned long ago. You didn't have to save a room full of hostages to make a difference, you just had to save one life. Bruce had taught me that, both in his words and actions. He fought every time as if it was the most important fight of his life, whether it be the Joker or a mugger.

Anything he could do to make a wrong turn down an alley not end as it had for him.

Leaving the city limits shortly after four in the morning, I signed off with Oracle and made the long, dark trek back to Bristol. Time seemed to slow as my mind was finally allotted the chance to wander. I knew I should have been thinking about how Talia was in the Manor and that Jason Todd's grave was empty and that we had no idea what the next bombshell was. No doubt Tim and Dick and Bruce had interrogated her to no end but if she had run away from her father, there was no guarantee that she knew anything.

Perhaps she had said something, pushing Bruce over the edge…

I showered and dressed in a spare set of sweats and a tank top upon arriving at the Cave. Stepping out onto the floor, I smirked to see Tim sitting in the computer chair, having come down to meet me. He was wearing a knee length pair of gym shorts and a long-sleeved rugby shirt, his hair mused and his jaw line dark. As I walked over, he rose to his feet, "Hey, how'd it go?"

Shrugging, I walked over to him, "Not bad. How'd it go here?"

He smiled, but his eyes were pained. Taking a step forward, he wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tight without saying a word. After kissing the top of my head, Tim said, "Let's go upstairs."

Walking up both the cave stairs and the two flights to the guest bedroom, Tim caught me up on the details he had left out earlier. In addition, he recapped his long night of staying awake, watching Talia sleep peacefully on the monitor. I asked about Dick and Tim replied that he had taken to sleeping up on the third floor in order to keep an eye out on the rest of the Family.

Making it to our temporary room, he opened the door for me and closed it behind us. Robbie didn't so much as twitch as he lay on his dog bed near the dresser. From the looks of the tucked in sheets, Tim hadn't made a single attempt at rest. My eyes immediately found the monitor Tim had set up on the nightstand, the infrared lens bathing the images in green. Sure enough, Talia was in bed, motionless save for the soft rise and fall of her chest. After sitting on the bed and looking more closely, I realized her shoulders were bare, prompting me to ask, "She's naked?"

"Yeah… I think she thinks Bruce is watching the cameras."

I glanced around at him, my brow narrowing.

"Oh please…" he sighed before sitting next to me, "We both know there is only one naked woman I like to see."

"Better be," I shook my head slightly.

He leaned his shoulder into me and kissed my temple. After exhaling heavily, he said, "You should get some rest."

I poked his thigh, "You should get some rest."

"I'll sleep later."

"So will I."

We stared at one another, neither of us backing down from our positions. He let a smile cross his face, "Fine, be that way."

I was about to reply when he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine. Without hesitating, I reclined onto my back, letting him lay on top of me. Most nights, we were spent from long days at work and even longer nights of patrols, leaving any intimacy for the weekends, if at all. He had joked that we were the worst newlyweds ever, having not even gone on a honeymoon let alone through the marital ritual of sporadic couplings.

He ripped my tank top over my head as I pushed his shirt up, parting our lips for mere seconds to accomplish the task. I bit his ear before saying, "She's next door."

"Lead lined walls," he grunted back, putting his weight on one hand to pull down his shorts, "I think we'll be okay."

As he pulled away to draw my sweats down and off, I pointed to the monitor, "And what about that?"

Moving to lay above me again, Tim stared at the screen before grabbing his shirt and covering it, "Problem solved."

If only getting rid of her for good was as simple.

^V^

I woke to a small finger tapping my forehead. It wasn't unpleasant since the previous morning Barbara had woken me by dropping Ethan on my chest. I opened my eyes to see Nathan leaning against my bed, his arm stretching across the mattress to touch my face. Looking next to him, I spotted Ace's big black head resting on the bed, an easy feat for the tall dog.

"Good morning," I said, smiling to see he was wearing Marvin the Martian pajamas.

"You slept here?" he asked.

Pushing myself to sit upright, I patted the spot on the bed next to me and waited for him to climb up before answering, "Yeah, it was pretty late… figured I might as well stay… and have a good, hearty Alfred breakfast."

Nathan nodded and looked down at his lap. I asked him what was wrong and he sighed, looking up at me, "The tooth fairy forgot about me."

"What?"

He forced a smile to show that he had lost a bottom incisor, emphasizing it by poking his tongue through the gap. "I lost it while I was reading last night… and I put it under my pillow and then this morning, my tooth was still there."

The truth of the matter was that Selina never had a chance to check back in on her son to tuck him in, staying with Bruce for the remainder of the night. I put an arm around his shoulder and rubbed his back, "Well, I will be sure to get to the bottom of this… make sure the Tooth Fairy isn't slacking on the job."

I reached over and let Ace sniff my hand, smirking when he licked my fingers gently. I had witnessed first hand what that fanged mouth was capable of, giving me an entirely new level of respect for how careful he was with Nathan. After drawing my arm back, I asked, "Anyone else awake?"

He shook his head, "No… maybe Alfred. I haven't checked yet."

"Well, if you give me a couple minutes, I'll wash up and we can go downstairs together, how does that sound?"

Nathan finally offered a real smile before rolling off of the bed, "Okay, but hurry."

As boy and dog raced each other into the hall, I pushed the covers back and stepped onto the cool carpet. Stretching my back and shoulders, I reached for the bedside phone and called Barbara. It wasn't until after it was ringing that I spotted the alarm clock putting the time at twenty of seven. I promptly hung up, not surprised when it immediately rang on my end.

"Morning, precious," I said apologetically.

"Good morning…" Barbara yawned before adding, "How goes it on the home front?"

"Home is still standing, that's a good sign… Nate just woke me up actually, haven't had time to get updates from everyone."

"Well, Cass ended up going up to spend the night after patrols, so at least there was double duty on the second floor." I heard Ethan babbling in the background and after Barbara appeased him, she continued, "And Leslie called around one, said Bruce was doing better."

My heart sank a little lower in my chest, "Yeah… I checked in with her on her way back downstairs just before then, must be. Said he was back to his usual cheery self."

"Probably just him trying to make Leslie feel better… Listen, I'm going to take Jim to the airport then I'll stay here with Ethan if you want to... help out up there today."

Carrying the phone with me as I crossed the room, I agreed, "Sounds like a plan. I'll give you a call later… and give Jimbo my best."

"Okay."

I took a bit longer than I had anticipated, choosing to shower quickly and shave before the day was underfoot. Out of the bounty of spare clothes I had in my old room, I selected based on comfort with a pair of stonewashed jeans, worn leather deck shoes and a button up blue chambray shirt over a white undershirt. After pocketing my cell, I stepped out of the room while rolling the sleeves up to my elbow. Nathan and Ace sat just outside of my door, my younger brother dressed in a frighteningly similar outfit. The only difference was that he had black and blue stripes and short sleeves on his button up shirt.

"Looking good, pal," I noted.

Nate climbed to his feet, "Hey, you copied me…"

"Maybe people will think we are twins."

"I don't think so," he replied, getting to his feet.

Nathan laughed as I picked him up off of the ground, practically tossing him on to my shoulders, "Twins that were born thirty years apart."

The dog let out a low whine of excitement and followed me as I strode down the hall, his eyes never leaving Nathan as he sat up high. Reaching the stairwell, he remarked, "You're old."

"Well, you're short, so there."

By passing the second floor entirely, we trekked to the ground level of the Manor. I offered to let Nathan down, but he instructed me to carry him to the service entrance so he could take Ace out for a walk. Doing as told, I walked on, turning whenever he steered me by the head. Passing the open entrance of the kitchen, I stopped upon hearing someone clearing their throat.

Putting the boy down, I looked in and smiled, "Morning, Al."

"Good morning to you, too, sir. Master Nathan, if you would be so kind as to walk your companion, I will ready his breakfast."

"Okay," Nate patted his thigh, "Hier, Ace. Let's go out."

Stepping into the kitchen, I took in a lungful of warm breakfast smells, "Glad I woke up early."

Alfred returned his gaze to the stove top, carefully checking a skillet filled with a colorful omelet, "It pains me to hear that seven in the morning is waking early, sir."

"I know, it pains me as well," I replied, reaching to steal a crumb off of cooling loaf of cranberry-oatmeal bread. Without turning back, Alfred cleared his throat, warning me not to proceed. Reluctantly, I retreated, choosing to simply take a seat at one of the stools on the island counter. "I take it everyone else is sleeping in?"

"A well deserved rest, yes." He stepped away from the stove for a moment, pouring me a cup of coffee and adding two spoonfuls of sugar before handing it to me. I thanked him and rose from the stool making a grab for the sugar bowl to add an additional heaping scoop. He played interference once again, although resorting to physical instead of verbal efforts.

After he swatted me with the hot spatula, I shook my hand, "Ow!"

"My apologies, sir. It must have slipped…"

Returning to the stool in defeat, I sipped gingerly and asked, "Where's Leslie?"

"I've already taken her into the clinic for the day. She wished for an early start in order to return at a decent hour."

With Nathan still outside, I decided it was safe to ask, "How's Bruce?"

He hesitated, turning the omelet with the ease of experience, then replied, "He and Ms. Selina were resting comfortably as of six this morning."

"Leslie said he was doing better last night, when she checked on him."

"He was awake, alert… ornery."

"Well, that's good to hear…" I smiled at that, hearing the service door open and the chaos of child and canine feet. Watching silently, Alfred pointed out the waiting porcelain dish on the counter to Nathan who retrieved and carefully set it on the floor near the matching water bowl. After watching white teeth flash against black lips for a moment, I said, "Surprised Mattie's not up yet."

"It is quite acceptable for a young girl to sleep in," Alfred pointed out, "A grown man, however…"

Not ten minutes later, Nathan and I were seated in the nook, sharing breakfast together. For a moment, I thought that he had forgotten about what had happened the night before, but as he stabbed his eggs, he had asked if Talia was going to come down for breakfast.

"Probably not, Nate."

"When am I going to meet her?"

"I don't know. Soon… have to let the adults catch up first."

Halfway through breakfast, Mattie joined us, still in her pajamas. Nathan showed her how he had lost another tooth but made no mention of the Tooth Fairy not dropping by to exchange it. Afterwards, Alfred volunteered to tend to the kitchen as long as Mattie took Nathan in to the den to play.

Carrying the dirty dishes from the nook to the kitchen, I spotted a breakfast tray plated for one. Seeing how the remaining occupied rooms in the house were housing married couples save for one, it was obvious who it was intended for. Picking it up, I glanced over to Alfred as he rinsed dishes in the sink, "If I'm not back thirty minutes, wake the Batmen."

He nodded curtly, "Of course, sir."

Knowing I would only spill the fresh squeezed orange juice onto the omelet, yogurt with fruit and the fresh cranberry bread, I decided it was best to take the elevator up to the next floor. Stepping off, I walked down the silent hall, pausing at the secure room's door. Setting the tray in one hand momentarily, I exposed the digital control box and let it scan my hand and approve of my vocal command.

After the door's lead bolts disengaged, I rapped softly.

"Come in," Talia replied from within.

Before opening the door, I whispered to myself, "Please have clothes on."

And she did, albeit barely. Seeing how she had brought no physical baggage of her own, Alfred had worked his magic and unearthed some items of clothing for her. Instead of her combat gear or her over-revealing gowns, she was sporting a black silk robe. There was an outfit in waiting on the dresser, dark slacks and a green sweater beside brown slip on shoes and plain white cotton undergarments. No doubt her first order of business would include a shopping trip at Neiman Marcus.

"Breakfast in bed, how pleasant."

I crossed the rooms, avoiding her gaze as I set the tray on her bedside table, "You know Alfred, they don't get more pleasant than him."

She smirked, taking a seat on the rumpled covers on the bed, "Truer words, Richard… although I must say, I'm surprised to see you checking in on me."

Standing upright, I asked, "And why's that?"

"At the very least, I expected Timothy."

I shook my head, "Call me whatever you want, don't call him that. He'll drop you in a chasm in the Cave."

"Somehow, I doubt that," she smirked, crossing her legs before adding, "He doesn't seem the type to overreact over something of such little consequence."

The plan had been to drop off her meal, make sure she wasn't indulging in any scheme hatching and then split. Instead, I found myself taking a seat in the small arm chair adjacent to the bed. She seemed amused by that, hiding her smile by taking the glass of orange juice and putting it to her lips. When she put it back down, she asked, "Are you keeping me company or babysitting me?"

"Little bit of both. Plus interrogation."

"I have nothing to hide, not anymore."

"Good. Then let's start from the beginning. When your father's men violated the grave of a teenaged boy."

"I can't enjoy this meal first?"

Narrowing my eyes, I told her, "Multitask."

Talia contemplated for a moment before shifting to sit closer to the nightstand, "You've changed. You were a child trapped in man's body the last I saw you… now, the child is long gone."

A growl escaped my lips on its own, "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Of course. My apologies," she adjusted the glass on the tray before suggesting, "Seems only fair to tell my tale once, perhaps we should wait-."

"You'll tell your tale as many times as we want, see how many variations you can spin out."

The soft look on her face was suddenly replaced with one of anger as she rose to her feet, "Perhaps I won't speak to you. Or any of you. I came here for protection and I have received nothing but accusations and threats from you and your partner."

I noted she didn't mention Bruce, but decided not to comment as I stood from the chair. Keeping my voice even, I replied, "You can't honestly expect us to welcome you with open arms, Talia. You post some transmission to the airwaves, giving as few details as possible and asking for Bruce to save you and then that note to Tim, telling him you needed his protection…"

"He told you of the letter?" she seemed genuinely surprised.

"Why wouldn't he?"

When she decided to sit back down, I did the same. It was too early to be sorting through what was her Oscar worthy acting skills and what was actually the truth. But the longer we waited to confront her, the longer we would be left wondering. And I was certainly the least patient member of the Family, possibly tied with Nathan.

"I want you to know that I do see this from your perspective, Richard. I only wish you would offer me the same courtesy."

"I will gladly do so… after you enlighten me."

There was a long moment of silence before she began, "My father took the remains shortly after the boy expired. He knew how costly the child's death would be on Bruce… and no matter what had transpired between them over the years, my father has and will always respect him as one of his greatest rivals and near equals. Letting such a tragedy break the spirit of such a great man was not an option, not if my father could have taken it back."

"So dipping him in the pit was the better option?"

Talia hesitated, then responded, "It was done with the intention of doing right by Bruce. When he joined forces with my father to fight a mutual enemy, it was evident how reckless and erratic he had become. When their alliance ended, my father proceeded to carry out as planned, putting Jason into the Lazarus pit."

The mere thought of it made the eggs in my stomach churn. Somehow, I managed to keep my breakfast down while asking, "Then why did he keep Jason? Why didn't he return him to Bruce?"

"He desired to but…" she reached up and wiped at her eyes with the edge of a linen napkin. When she set it back down on the tray, Talia proceeded, "The boy came out of the Lazarus pit unusually calm. My father and his doctors feared that he had not been brought back correctly, that there was still damage to his brain and nervous system. But they were wrong… He… He looked at us, followed instructions to lay on the gurney…"

"How is that possible?"

"We still don't understand. He cleared all of the physical examinations and neurological tests, in fact, hitting ranges that were accelerated for his age. We explained to him what had happened, about the manner in which he had died and how we had gone through the motions of righting the wrong. Jason seemed to absorb it all without worry, as if he had simply woken from a long sleep. My father was overjoyed with the results, until… until the boy spoke."

Dreading the response, I asked, "What did he say?"

"He asked if Bruce had… sought out revenge, if he had killed the Joker. We told him that he hadn't and Jason… started to laugh."

"He laughed?"

Talia nodded, a tear slipping from the corner of her eye, "It was perverse… seeing such a young boy with such a cold look on his face, hearing the anger in his laughter. My father couldn't return him, knowing that he wasn't the same boy."

"Why not kill him?" I asked without thinking.

"We tried to. But Jason defended himself, killed four guards in the process. It was then that my father decided that he had given life to the boy and was therefore responsible for him. To train him, to care for him… to love him."

I stood up again, feeling my heart throbbing in my chest.

"We never meant for it to happen that way," she pleaded, rising from the bed and approaching me. "We wanted to help him, to help Bruce."

Reaching the door, I turned and glared down at her, "Eat your breakfast."

I opened and closed it without looking at her again. Once it was locked, I let myself lean against the door, sliding down to sit on the carpet. Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Tim approaching, pausing to stand not two feet away. When I finally looked up at him, he was sporting only gym shorts and the same shocked look that I had on my own face.

"Did you get all of that?" I asked, knowing he had been next door with the surveillance monitors.

He nodded, swallowing hard before admitting, "I hate to hear what else she has to say."

"Me, too," I sighed, a flash of Jason laughing crossing my mind, "Me, too."

^V^

Alone again.

But not alone, I mused while looking to one of the nearly invisible cameras.

When Timothy had escorted me to the room the previous night, he had not disclosed his efforts in verifying that the cameras were ready for duty. Having dealt little with Bruce's successor, I had been impressed by his boldness. His activities in his time since taking the cowl had been remarkable, excelling more rapidly than Bruce had in his early years. It had not been easy determining that a new face was behind the mask, but seeing the increase in Bruce's social and familial life had warranted further investigation. I had never expected him to step down, I had never desired to think of my former lover as becoming anything but the great man I had once known him to be.

It had taken years, but my father had been the one to determine that the last Robin had been the one to inherit the cowl, Timothy Drake. Although he had his suspicions for some time, he had decided earlier that year that he was certain. The Joker's path of destruction through the streets of Gotham had entered the personal lives of the Family, striking them down without the benefit of disguise. The defining factor had not been the shooting of Richard, but the fact that the Batman had remained vigilante until the deaths of Drake's parents.

Followed shortly after by Bruce Wayne and his daughter being attacked by an unknown assailant, supposedly saved by Batman.

Despite all of the variables, my father had deduced that Drake had given the cowl back to his mentor, forcing him out of retirement. He had said, "I have known the detective long enough to know that age and weakness would not prevent him from acting as Gotham's last stand. I have seen him act selflessly before, and just as stupidly."

The pieces had come together, the timelines had fused. Richard had maintained his self appointed guise, the role of Robin had been vacated and the cowl of the Bat had been bestowed to another generation. When my father had shared his thoughts on the matter with Jason, his protégé had stabbed an unarmed technician in the control room. His only reprehension had been my father reminding him that he needed to maintain his temper.

The scar on the side of my face had burned painfully while watching him chase the tech out of the room, laughing at the poor man.

I could not stand another moment in their presence, under their control. It had taken until June for me to plan a way to send the transmission, to try and put my emotions aside in order to send a coherent message, one my former beloved would take notice of. Sending it directly to him would have been foolish, but I knew his allies kept as close of an eye and ear on the world as he once had. Especially his predecessor.

Spending most of the evening at Timothy's side, I had studied him intently, noting both the similarities and differences between the current and previous Batman. Granted, Timothy was upset by my intrusion, he had been able to keep it from affecting his actions. He had known every step he took in the Cave, every word he had said to me and controlled every look he sent my way. Whenever I had intruded upon Bruce, he had been furious, always grabbing me by the arm, digging his fingers into my flesh, growling his words, glaring down at me…

I had been pleased to see that he had treated me in the same manner after so many years apart.

Seeing Timothy speak with his masked ally, David Cain's daughter, I had the first moment alone since arriving. They spoke just loud enough to be heard, proving that they were not above me listening in. Leaving her to patrol the city alone made me wonder if my presence had a greater impact than I had first predicted. As we had climbed the steps up to the Manor, I had proposed, "Please do not feel as if you need to abandon your duties on my behalf."

Timothy had paused three steps from the top, waiting for me to look back at him, "My duty is to protect people. Right now, it's to protect this Family."

"To protect Bruce?"

He had narrowed his eyes briefly before ordering, "Keep walking."

The study had been nearly exactly as it was when I had last seen it. Lush carpeting, dark drapery over the windows and the same magnificent desk. While Timothy had locked the grandfather clock entrance, I had approached the desk, its surface glossy and spotless save for a leather desk blotter, laptop and framed photographs. Two of the silver frames had images of Bruce with the dark-haired woman I had met earlier. One had been of them posing in formal wear at a social event and the other of them sitting together on what appeared to be the stone terrace of the Manor.

They had appeared blissfully happy in both.

There were five more photographs, two of them documenting the weddings of both Richard and Timothy. Richard had wed the auburn haired woman that had swapped roles from active crime fighter to telecommunication sleuth. They had been seated on an iron wrought bench in a rose garden, she on his lap with her arms around his neck. Timothy's had been far more light in nature, a black and white photograph of him and Cain's daughter on the swings of a playground. Again, their happiness transcended the glossy images.

Then, there had been frames of the children.

Bruce's daughter had looked stunning, sporting a purple and white leotard while proudly boasting a neck of gymnastic medals and a brilliant smile. Her dark waves had been pulled back tightly, revealing the delicate features of her face and her startling blue eyes. The boy had been equally precious, with short black hair, a mischievous grin and an American football uniform smudged proudly with dirt, the same sharp blue eyes glowing with excitement. The last had been of a toddler, not much more than a year old with bright hazel eyes, short caramel curls and the small buds of insidious teeth.

He was seated on Bruce's lap in the picture, the only image on the desk with Bruce's hair short and gray.

"They are beautiful, his children."

Timothy had approached me, "Yes, they are."

"This was recent, yes?" I had pointed to the photograph of the toddler.

"This spring."

"It was before he was injured… I can tell. He carries more weight in this than he does now… he seems more himself."

He had hesitated before replying, "It was Ethan's birthday party in March. Month and a half before it happened."

I had drawn a long breath before proposing, "If I am to be completely honest with you, with everyone, I would desire the same in return… I want to know what happened to him."

Timothy had shrugged, barely noticeable in the dimly lit room, "He and his daughter were going to the Free Clinic-."

I had shaken my head, "No they weren't."

"Listen, you want the truth, you can ask Bruce. Because honestly, none of us know." He had glanced to the door before nodding, "Let's go."

I had expected Richard to be waiting by to help escort me to my quarters, or at the very least Alfred armed with some sort of rifle. Instead, he had walked me in total silence up one flight of stairs before ushering me left down a quiet corridor.

As he examined the room, I had told him, "I meant it when I said that I have nothing to hide."

Timothy had commented, "We'll find out, won't we?"

Alfred had a moment after we had. I had greeted him warmly and he had done his best to remain cordial and polite. He offered a tray of food, but I had declined, taking only the glass of water.

"Well, in the event you change you mind, I shall leave this for you," he had set the tray on the dresser.

Naturally, I had been able to trust in the fact that Alfred would never change.

He had left briefly, returning with day clothes, a robe and other garments, miraculously all within my size. Alfred had asked if I desired anything else and after assuring him that he had done more than enough, he had departed. I had expected Timothy to begin his actual interrogation, mentally preparing myself for whatever he selected from a spectrum of questions. When we had trekked back through my path through the Cave's recesses, he had barely said a word. Even on the return trip, he had only asked that I was certain my father had taken the body of Jason Todd.

I had given him a truthful response, but he would have been upset either way.

When he had run out of things to check on in the room, Timothy had turned to me, "There's literally no way in or out unless the door is unlocked. And that can only be done by myself, Dick and Bruce. Even Alfred can't do it, so don't start trying to get in good favor with him, it won't help."

"A safe room," I had replied, shedding my fur lined vest before throwing it to the bed. "More like a prison cell."

"You wanted to be protected, this is how we'll do it." He had paused until I face him once more, "I know Bruce is going to want to talk to you, most likely in the morning… but I have to ask you something now."

"Ask away," I had offered.

"You sent that transmission months back, but you randomly sent the letter mere weeks ago. Why didn't you say that you were coming?"

"I was still uncertain as to whether or not it was feasible."

"Were you in hiding? In Iran?"

"Yes… I was being tailed by my father's men… they had managed to narrow in on my general location… sending the letter was the safest way to contact you."

"Contact me? All you said in it was that you were afraid Bruce was too crippled to help you and that you were setting your sights on me."

His words had hurt me far more than the tone in which he had said them. I had stepped closer to him before responding, "I said no such thing. I… I simply was concerned for him… after all he has suffered… And with the mantle belonging to you, it was you I should have been reaching out to from the start."

Timothy had remained silent as he stared down at me.

With the opportunity available to me, I had continued, "You wear his mantle in his stead, you uphold his noble traits and you have taken his vow… you must protect the innocent, including me."

He had asked, "The scar… is from Jason?"

"This is nothing," I had touched the side of my face, "He's done far worse to me. My father's second in command and he thinks he is as powerful as the Demon's Head." My face had softened enough to let my lower lip tremble at that point.

Noting as much, Timothy had replied, "Cell or not, no one is coming in or out on my watch."

"A great relief."

He had left without saying good night, not that I had expected him to do otherwise.

Bruce had appeared not long after, looking painfully haggard. I had known about his conditions for some time but seeing them manifested in the flesh was unnerving. He had once been a titan among men, a man my father had deemed to be worthy of siring his heir. And yet before me was not the man I had fallen in love with so many years ago. It was a gray haired man, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and a limp that would never go away.

Looks were deceiving, I had to remind myself.

He had spoken briefly with me, starting with a stern voice but in the end emotion had gotten the best of him, leading him to leave abruptly. I had hoped that Bruce would be the first to greet me in the morning given that there had been so much left unsaid and hanging in the air. I wanted nothing more than to comfort him, to show him that I was indeed sorry for being partly responsible for his agony, for his suffering.

Alone.

But not alone.

Even through the reinforced door, I could sense Richard on the other side. Pressing my ear to the cold surface had yielded no sound, but I was certain he was still there. Retreating, I took a seat on the bed once more, the rich aroma of breakfast doing little for my appetite. The last few days had treated me much nicer than the months that had come before, the hospitality in America never tiring of a wealthy, attractive woman. Cash and confidence were never turned away, something that had made entering the city nearly as easy as it had been to step into the Cave.

I forced myself to eat the bread and drink the juice, leaving the rest untouched. Shedding my robe, I took advantage of the time alone to wash and dress, the clothing far too casual for my taste. Given the looks and growls I had received the night before, I doubted that the lady of the house be willing to part with more appropriate attire. I had been studying my appearance in the mirror when I heard the door unlock, opening without being invited to.

Stepping out of the washroom, I was pleased to see it was Bruce, looking poorly rested but in more control of himself than he had been for our last conversation. I smiled before remarking, "You look well. Last night, you appeared-."

"Last night I dug up my son's grave," he interrupted me, "And now… you're going to tell me why."

"I was just speaking with Richard-."

He cut in once more, "I know. I also know you won't tell him things that you would tell me. That I know things that he doesn't." When I didn't reply, he added, "The cameras are off."

Nodding, I pulled back the wave of hair covering the scar on my face, "Very well."

Taking a seat on the bed, I waited for him to be seated in the chair. His upper body seemed to be as stiff as his left leg, forcing me to wonder if he had slept at all. If he had been up distraught over the truth about Jason, pondering about my sudden appearance or worried for what was to come. At the very least, I would do my best to quell some of his questions, to bring him comfort of mind.

I recapped all that I had told Richard, pointing out that my father had been gravelly worried for him during their alliance in bringing down Qayin. Bruce had been right in noting that I was able to be more frank with him than with his eldest protégé. There were matters that only he knew of and details that would mean more to him than the others. Experiences he and I had shared and no other had…

"If it is any consolation," I offered, "My father loves Jason. As if he were his own son."

"It's not," he said quietly. Bruce had been silent for the better part of ten minutes, leaving me to carry the entire conversation. I had been expecting an interrogation but it had started to feel like a confession. He let his elbows rest on the arms of the chair, peaking his fingers together and letting them rest o his chin. After shaking his head slightly, he responded, "Your father doesn't love anyone. Or anything."

I smirked before commenting, "There was a time that I would have clawed your eyes out for saying that."

He replied, "But not anymore. Because now you've seen him for who he really is."

I rose to my feet and began to pace the room slowly, "My whole life I rebelled against him and for the last fifteen years I have been cast aside, neglected, abused…and my father could care less. I know the only reason he has sent men after me was so that Jason could have his bride…"

Bruce returned to silence, his eyes distant with contemplation.

Moving before him, I knelt before proceeding, "I've wasted a lifetime following his orders, obeying him… I wasted a life with you… and in return, I was granted with nothing. For years my father hinted at giving me to that foul creature-."

"And when he finally acted on it, you left," he finished for me.

"You know my father's customs… they dictate the consent of the bride and the approval of the father… and I refused." Rising to my feet, I continued, "And unfortunately, Jason does not take no for an answer."

When I reached for the edge of the sweater and began to pull upward, Bruce rose to his feet, "Don't do this."

"You wanted the truth," I pulled it up and off, letting it fall to the floor, "Here it is."

He stared quietly at the ragged scars that marked my bare torso and arms, small knots on healed ribs and puckered skin from burns that would ever go away. The look that overcame him reflected the very same that had crossed my face upon learning he had been hospitalized in April, that he was in critical condition and comatose. "Talia…"

"For whatever wrongs I have dealt you over the years, I have paid for them, dearly. I can't go back… I… I need you to stop it, to stop him… to save me…"

Despite my efforts to maintain my emotions, thinking of every blow and every flash of pain had my eyes growing glassy and my chest growing tight. Turning away from him, I wiped my eyes, barely noticing when he inhaled sharply at the sight to my whiplash marked back. He bore twice as many scars and I doubted a single one caused him as much pain as seeing similar marks on others had.

He no longer wore the mask.

He was old and crippled.

But as my father had said, that would not stop him from acting selflessly. Or stupidly.

^V^

As always, it was difficult to determine what was for show and what was real.

However, there was no denying the decade's worth of scars that plagued her once flawless skin. A cursory glance defined many to be the result of whip lashings, knife wounds, burns and the discernible knots of broken bones. She had said that as a boy Jason had killed a number of guards in self-defense and from the looks of it, his violence had only progressed. Under the tutelage of her father's greatest fighters, Jason's brash, erratic and careless behavior had been sculpted into something unimaginable. He thrived on senseless violence, preying on those he deemed weak or those he simply could not tolerate.

Far too similar to the monster that had put him in the ground in the first place…

I bent at the waist carefully, retrieving the sweater from the floor before approaching her. Talia's bare back shivered as she fought tears, causing taught flesh to move beneath the scars. Draping it over her shoulders, I found that I had nothing to say.

She turned to face me, arms crossed over her chest as she hugged herself. In the light of the Cave the night before, she had looked just as she had the last time I saw her. With daylight casting over her, I recognized the slight changes in her complexion and the scattered grays in her hair. Time had struck at us both, seemingly with equal amounts of suffering and pain.

"We will do whatever we can to stop your father and… Jason. We will protect you."

She lifted a hand to wipe at the tears on her left cheek, "That's all I ask."

I waited as she excused herself to freshen up in the bathroom by taking a seat in the arm chair. Alternating between staring at the closed door and the stitches on my finger. The cameras were off, thankfully, but Tim was more than capable of activating them again if he so desired. Before entering her room, I had briefly spoken to both Tim and Dick as they loitered outside of her door. Sitting on the floor, Dick had jumped to his feet at the sight of me, telling me had taken in her breakfast and had gotten an earful.

"I hate to say it," he had admitted, "But I feel bad for her."

Tim had been less empathetic, rehashing the hours he had spent watching her through the night. For nearly ninety percent of the hours he had observed, she had slept peacefully in the queen-sized bed. I had stepped towards the room he had stayed in, and he had quickly informed me that Cassandra was sleeping still. After promising to be quiet, he had let me enter, watching from the doorway as I deactivated the monitoring connection.

As long as Selina didn't know about Talia revealing her scars to me, all would be well.

There was a great deal more to be discussed, but I was wary of how to proceed. I wasn't about to postpone finding out the necessary details of Ra's and Jason's relationship, nor did I want to push Talia to the point where she would become emotional. As she returned to the main room, I decided I would play it by ear, waiting to assess her state before continuing.

She took a seat on the bed, drawing her legs up in order to rest her chin between her knees. Her face was dry and clean, but her eyes were still puffy and red. Keeping her gaze set on her bare feet, she spoke softly, "He always respected my father, right from the beginning. At first, he seemed to respect me as well… but I never desired to grow fond of him. I knew there was something different about him, something that would only grow worse with time."

Time. As in nearly seventeen years of training with the League of Assassins.

I couldn't help but think back to the short time Jason had spent under my wing, the constant and uphill battle of trying to get him to conform to the training regimens and to adhere to the rules. Although I still blamed myself for his death, and rightfully so, I had acknowledged the fact that his resistance to staying within the lines had played a role as well. Had he been able to follow orders and trust that the rules were in place for a reason, he may not have acted as he had. He may have never felt the cold steel of a crowbar nor the blazing heat of the explosion that had ended his life.

Then again, if he had never been a part of my war, he wouldn't have been forced into the predicament in the first place…

"Your father thrives on controlling others, on obtaining obedience. I have a hard time believing he would let Jason harm you so viciously without repercussion."

"Where it counts, Jason is the ideal son to him. He carries out missions with perfect success, he expects the highest caliber of action from his men at all times and his loyalty to my father is unwavering. Combined with his abilities and his passion for his work, it makes it easier for my father to look beyond Jason's faults."

"They seem to be quite apparent to me."

She smiled sadly, "There was one occasion where my father reprimanded him, when Jason was eighteen… He had groped me and I had backhanded him for acting so forward. In response, he had punched me," she gently touched her right cheek, the bone beneath misshapen, barely noticeable but I had memorized her face long ago.

After looking up at me, she concluded, "Hard enough to break my cheekbone. Fortunately, my father had seen it… and knocked Jason to the ground and held the edge of his sword to the boy's throat. He made it clear that it was a juvenile and senseless act, and it was not to be tolerated."

That sounded more like the Ra's I knew, I thought to myself.

Talia added, "He was punished… locked in solitary confinement for a month. Afterwards, Jason pretended to play nice, but in private moments he had no problem expressing his disgust towards me… I had always known what he really was. That simply had proved it."

Exhaling, I inquired, "It obviously only had a short term effect. Some of those scars are at least a decade old."

"The closer he became to Jason, the more my father let him get away with… but there is much that he is not aware of. I'm sure if I had divulged it to him, my father may have taken some sort of action against him-."

"Then why didn't you tell him? You obviously have the evidence to support accusations."

Talia shook her head, "Because… there was too much at risk. And had I gone to my father and disclosed it… there was still a chance that he would not be as upset as I was. Our cultures are so very different, Bruce. My father has lived centuries, all of them patriarchal in nature. He has never hesitated in raising his hand towards me, why would he turn on his protégé for doing the same?"

In my years, I had encountered far too many victims of domestic violence. Far too many stood by those who harmed them in fear of the consequence of actually leaving, not to mention a score of psychological issues revolving around altered perceptions. Talia had once been a figure of sheer power and yet before me she looked broken, forcing herself to be angry but clearly acting out of fearfulness.

"I have stood by his side my entire life and yet he takes to that street rat as if he was of his own blood…" Talia's fists clenched the edge of the mattress before she calmed herself with a deep breath, "To a point, I understand his leniency. There were times when my father had every right to have me beheaded and my remains fed to jackals, but he never did. Even when he had used the protocols against your allies and I had betrayed him to help you… One of his men had shot me in the leg a means of stopping me… I later found out that my father punished him by feeding him alive to tigers."

Letting her legs slip off of the bed, she added, "He has been more than willing to look the other way for either one of us… but considering my actions, I doubt he will be as understanding towards me from now on…"

My throat felt dry, forcing me to swallow hard before asking, "How did you escape?

"It was easier than I had expected… After hearing about what happened this spring, compiled with everything that was happening in my life, I knew I couldn't waste any more time. My father sent me on a trek to Paris with new members of the League, to test them in the field… We landed at Charles De Gaulle airport… I called in a bomb threat, singling them out and in the thick of it all, I managed to escape."

"But your father sent men after you."

She nodded, her brown hair falling from her shoulder, "Yes. Another team had already been in place… under Jason's orders. He was suspicious of me… he always has been, but it seemed so much worse after what happened to you… They tracked me over these last few months, forcing me to stay on guard every moment. Every time I thought I had lost them, they would appear."

"Did they track you to the States?"

She shook her head, "No. I gave them a false trail into Africa, to one of my father's former bases which is only accessible by jungle roads. It will take them several days if not more to reach the location and just as long to make it back out."

"A little over a week… starting from when?" I asked.

"From yesterday. The trail I left for them had me flying into the Congo yesterday morning, with a guide supposedly taking me into outskirts of Bolomba. Hopefully, they will be greeted with a rousing case of malaria."

I found myself sitting back in the chair, letting my hands grip the ends of the armrests. After a beat, I asked, "What's their plan?"

"What?"

"Your father going into hiding for so long works to bring Jason along to the point of being a worthy ally… but for what purpose? Your transmission said it involved my Family, something dire."

She shook her head, "I knew of a plan, but they excluded me long ago, locking me in my quarters so that I wouldn't meddle."

It was the first thing she had said since appearing in the Cave the night before that rang falsely. Worst case scenario, I had the option to use sodium pentothal or scopolamine to verify any facts she had divulged. Having to resort to chemical interrogation was an unsavory thought, one I hadn't faced in nearly a decade. In fact, there was far too much that I hadn't done in so long that there was reason to doubt my instincts, my deductions, my-.

"Beloved?"

Shaking my head slightly, it took a moment to realize Talia was kneeling before me again, the concern on her face not for her own predicament but instead for my own. Having lost the last twenty seconds, I quickly attributed it to a petit mal seizure. The long week was still taking its toll on me, combined with Talia's sudden presence and all that she had brought with her… my jumbled brain didn't stand a chance.

I rose to my feet as steadily as possible, watching as she stood quickly, seemingly ready to reach out and right me if necessary. Before she could speak, I looked down at her, "I'll give you some time to rethink your answer."

"Are you all right?" she asked, extending her arm and placing her palm on my chest

Glancing to the uneaten tray of food beside the bed, I stated, "I'll send Alfred up at noon, if there is something specific you desire-"

"Bruce, please…"

Guiding her hand off of me, I finally offered, "I'm fine."

When I turned to leave, I felt her hand reach for me again, gently grasping my left wrist. I paused, a single look encouraging her to let go.

"I… I saw pictures of your children… in the study…they are more beautiful than I could have imagined."

As jumbled as my brain was, it had no problem flashing back seventeen years.

Watching as Talia sobbed on a gurney in her father's infirmary.

… _I am well, beloved but…_

Not even able to look me in the eye.

… _I have lost the baby…_

Her eyes never left mine as she smiled up at me, somehow making it difficult to walk away from her. Stepping out of the secure room, I locked it before glancing up and down the hall. The next door over was ajar and I rapped on it softly before pushing it inward, not even waiting for a response. Although the monitors were off, just as I had left them, there were two sleeping figures in the bed instead of just one. Tim still in his shorts, was face down on the bed, one arm draped over Cassandra's midsection. Retreating, I slowly walked down the hall, taking the elevator up as opposed to down.

Nearly nine in the morning and I had yet to eat.

I had yet to see my children…

Selina wasn't in the bedroom, although I honestly hadn't expected her to be. After the episode following digging up Jason's grave, I had managed to let the sedatives work until a little passed eleven. Coming out of the fog, I had found Selina in bed beside me, shaking quietly as she cried. Knowing I had been responsible for her momentary lapse into weakness, I had done my best to comfort her, as she had done for me. Leslie had checked in not thirty minutes later, relieved to see I was no worse for the wear.

Or at least she had pretended to be relieved, a task equal to my pretending that everything was all right.

Taking a seat on the bed, I studied my hand in private once more. The sutures were angry, as were a number of other scrapes marring the flesh of both sides of my hands. I had ripped back part of the nails of my pointer finger and middle finger on my right hand, exposing sensitive pink flesh. Surely it had been terrifying for Selina to witness, but it had been just as nerve rattling for me.

There had just been too much dirt. Too much blood. Neither of which would ever come clean.

"Dad?"

I glanced up to see Mattie standing at the doorway, wearing dark jeans with the knees ripped open along with a close fitting charcoal wool sweater. Fresh from the shower, her hair was still wrapped up in a towel and her fair skin had a light flush to it. It was a rare treat to see her without makeup when she was in civilian attire. A rare treat that I appreciated, as it made her nearly resemble the little girl she once was.

Patting the spot beside me, I waited until she had hopped onto the bed before speaking, "I want to talk to you about last night."

"I know, I already called Terry and told him I couldn't-." She stopped when she looked up and realized I wasn't done speaking. "Sorry," she added.

"You can go."

"Really?"

I nodded, "I shouldn't have acted the way I did… You were brought into this part of the Family, you had a right to know." When she remained silent, I continued, "However, you should have stayed with Alfred."

"I know," her eyes fell to her hands as they rested in her lap.

"And when your mother or I tell you to do something, there is a reason for it."

She nodded, muttering an apology quietly. After a moment of hesitation, Mattie looked up at me and asked, "What did you learn?"

"Excuse me?"

Mattie explained, "I came in a little while ago, Mom said you were talking to Talia. Did she say anything."

"Not much," I lied.

"Mom doesn't like her," Mattie remarked while pulling the towel off, tussling her hair gently.

"I know," I sighed, "Not many people do."

"You do, right? That's why you're helping her?"

I had no idea how to answer her, truthfully or otherwise. I had saved the lives of innocent men, women and children as readily as I had spared the lives of criminal s and murderers. The man who had taken Jason's life, crippled Barbara, slain my best friend's wife, the Huntress, the Drakes and hundreds of others still had a pulse because of me. I even had spared Ra's having to be resurrected by jumping between him and Qayin, forcing the man responsible for my world crumbling to pieces seventeen years ago to die of electrocution.

Ra's had wondered aloud afterwards if Qayin had finally found peace in death. My reply had been, "I hope not."

A dark time in my life. One without hope and love and my children's voices and my wife's smiles…

After leaning over and kissing her damp hair, I offered, "You don't have to like someone to help them... In fact there will be a day when you have to save the life of your enemy. And you can't hesitate, not for a second."

^V^

The moment the door closed behind Bruce, I had to fight the urge to run into the next room and activate the cameras. It was just as feasible that Talia was there seeking refuge as it was that she was working under her father's orders. Leaving her alone, unsupervised, in a room with him had not been my plan for acquiring information, but I wasn't about to intervene with Bruce's agenda.

Dick thankfully was there to distract me, "Hey, can I ask you something? About last night?"

It took a moment before I was able to break the hard stare I was directing towards the door. I glanced up and spotted Dick leaning against the wall, not three feet away. He had been up for some time, showered, shaved and dressed, all of which was completely out of character. He had said that Nathan had woken him up early, but I wondered if he had been unable to rest comfortably with Talia under the same roof. I hadn't closed my eyes for than ten minutes, alternating my focus between the monitor and Cass's peaceful face.

"Sure," I turned to face him.

"Well… I saw him after we… in the cemetery… but, what happened in the bedroom?" When I didn't answer immediately, he added, "I mean, he was like a zombie coming back to the house, Alfred said he had to usher him every step of the way, wash him and change him… why would Leslie have to sedate him if he could barely function?"

Alfred had been relatively frank with me the night before, retrieving me from the second floor to help move Bruce into his bed. Rather than suffer a seizure, he had said that Bruce had suffered a panic attack, completely understandable given what he had just done and seen. Any man had the right to break down after having to dig up their son's grave, only to find it empty.

"Leslie has him sedated for the time being, but we will need your assistance to relocate him-," Alfred had explained when we had walked onto the third floor.

"That's fine… is he okay?"

"Nothing a few stitches and a good night's sleep won't mend."

"Stitches?" I had asked as we closed in on the double doors of the master bedroom, "For what?"

When Alfred had paused, I had followed suit, patiently waiting for his answer, "He and Ms. Selina were… discussing matters while he washed his hands… when he started to panic, he... inflicted an injury upon his hand."

Imagining Bruce clawing at his hands feverishly had brought bile to my lips. Despite all he had endured in his life, Bruce had always persevered with focus. Granted, his temper would flare every once in a while, but if anything, it had made him think more clearly. Having him lose control after Talia being under our watch for mere hours was unsettling at the least. More like it was terrifying.

Instead of him being unconscious in the Cave's medical bay as he had been Friday night, Bruce had been out cold on the bathroom floor, his head in Selina's lap and swatches of blood all over the white tiles. Leslie had already cleaned and dressed his middle finger, the soft smile on her lips had been too forced for my preference. Given the amount of red on the floor, sink and soiled towels, he had done a relative amount of damage.

I had tried to ease the tension, joking about Bruce getting too heavy to be carried to bed every night.

If Selina had heard me, she made no effort to acknowledge it.

When Alfred and Leslie had left the room, Selina had encouraged me to go out on patrols. I had replied to her ushering by saying that my place was at the Manor for the foreseeable future. Our eyes on Bruce's still face, I had also told her that Alfred had explained what had happened. It had been my hope to ease the pressure of her sitting there and wondering if she should divulge the information herself. Also, I had reminded her that Bruce could pull through anything and that she shouldn't worry.

Leaving Selina alone with her husband, I had hated myself for lying to her…

Dick sighed as he moved away from the wall, stepping towards me, "Well?"

Shrugging, I finally replied, "Well, after he spoke with Talia last night, he went upstairs to the bedroom… he and Selina were talking, probably arguing… and he just lost it."

"And what, she clawed the hell out of his hands?"

I shook my head, "He did it to himself… trying to wash the dirt off from… you know."

"He did that?" Dick asked, an incredulous look coming over his face. Leaning back against the wall, he sighed, "Jesus… I knew he was upset, but…"

A silent moment fell between us and I half expected Dick was remaining quiet for the same reason I was. Even through they were lead enforced walls, if there was a commotion we would have been able to hear it. With no sounds coming forth, I asked him, "Jim was leaving today, wasn't he?"

"Babs dropped him off at the airport earlier," he glanced at the display of cell phone before closing with, "Should be Chicago bound in about ten minutes."

I nodded, fighting back the pang of guilt I still held myself accountable for not catching the Joker before he started setting his sights on our extended Family members. Clearing my throat, I responded with another question, "You heading home then?"

Dick shook his head, "No… Figured we're just going to end up having a meeting of the minds at some point today. Might as well just stick around."

"True. Well… I'm going to try and get some sleep. I'll forward the security footage to the Cave and the Clocktower in the meantime."

Dick looked to the guest room door, "Cass still asleep?" When I nodded, he continued, "Feel bad, making her run ragged all over the city last night."

Smirking, "I'm sure you'll find a way for you to make it up to her."

"And what about you?"

I winked at him, "Already taken care of."

Dick shook his head, "That's weak, bro… Well, go take your nap, Casanova."

I opened the door and whistled softly for Robbie, "Let him out... I'll tell Cass it was your idea."

"Always thinking," he roughed up the dog's short hair before walking away, "Come on, dog wonder."

Entering the bedroom, I left the door ajar a few inches, not wanting the click of the knob to sound. Cass had tried to stay up with me to study the monitor but watching Talia sleep so peacefully had proved to be too difficult. She had finally slipped away around six in the morning, mumbling something about Pop-Tarts. Given her ambitious evening, I had anticipated her actually sleeping in for once. To help, I had made sure Robbie remained quiet on his bed and that when I had slipped out from under the covers, I had done so without disturbing her.

And of course, reminding Bruce to show the same courtesy while he deactivated the monitors.

It was half past eight and she was still out, as rare of an occurrence as Haley's comet. Before sitting on the bed beside her, I activated the monitors, pleased to see Talia and Bruce quietly talking. She was sitting on the bed, holding her legs to her chest while he sat in the adjacent arm chair. I forwarded the feed as I had intended, not certain how long I would be able to sit there and watch the screen. Neither of them appeared to be enjoying the conversation, but I opted to leave the volume down as to not wake Cass.

Too late.

"Where's my Pop-Tart?" she asked without even opening her eyes.

"Your what?" I asked, turning to face her.

"I said when I was going to sleep… I wanted a Pop-Tart ready for when I woke up."

Resting my weight on my left arm, I leaned over and kissed her cheek, "Hate to tell you, Wayne Manor is a non-perishable breakfast tart free zone."

"We have some, could have gotten it." Even though I glared down at her, she stuck her tongue out before asking, "Where's Robbie?"

I told her that Dick had just taken him down for a walk and would be back shortly. Moving to lay on top of the covers, flat out on my stomach, I set the side of my face on her pillow, "Bruce is in talking to Talia."

She craned her neck to look above me in order to see the monitor, "Ah. You talk to her?"

"Not since last night," I replied, stifling a yawn.

"When you do… tell her to get pajamas from Alfred."

"Well, of course. Top priority," I reached over and shut the monitor off, muttering into the pillow as I let my arm rest over Cass's stomach.

She kissed my forehead before saying, "Sweet dreams."

Thankfully, I was blessed with dark, quiet sleep. No haunting nightmares, no bizarre stress dreams and no jerking awake every ten minutes. In the back of my foggy mind, I kept waiting for Robbie to jump on the bed in order to lick my face. For the first time in far too long, I wasn't interrupted by internal or external forces.

When I woke up, Cass was gone and I was no longer sleeping on my stomach, but rather on my back with the covers draped over me. The alarm clock put it at just before twelve-noon, translating into a solid two hours of sleep. Looking at the empty pillow beside me, I spotted a scrap of paper with Cass's small handwriting: **Come downstairs. Eat. Then come all the way downstairs.**

My options were fairly slim in regards to what spare clothes I had available to me. The guest room I usually used was on the other wing of the house and had collected a surprisingly small amount of personal items over the years. A few sets of clothes, back up chargers for my laptop and cell phone and a few random texts from college. Nothing I could live without, but certainly nice to have around if needed.

When Talia had been secured the night before, I had run upstairs to update everyone and to check on my shell-shocked mentor, fresh from being cleaned up, When Bruce had snapped out of it and left with Dick to speak with our unwarranted guest, I had stopped at my old room briefly to grab clean clothes and some toiletries. Returning to my temporary quarters, I had simply set them on a shelf in the bathroom, not even bothering to brush my teeth or wash up after a long day.

First glance into the mirror, I spotted the chaotic hair and rough jaw line. I took Dick's initiative to get ready for the day, albeit five hours after he had done so. After a long, hot shower, a quick shave and a change into dark jeans and a black vee-neck sweater over a white shirt, I returned to the bedroom to right the covers. Alfred would only be by later to completely strip the bed and dress it with fresh linens and blankets, but it didn't stop me from trying to help.

After checking to see Talia was in her room, seated at the bay window while picking at a silver serving tray of food, I allowed myself a sigh before heading to the stairs. Given the number of people in the Manor, I expected it to be fairly easy to run to at least one of them. Instead, the only living soul I encountered on the trip to the ground floor had been Mattie's cat lounging in the middle of the great hall. Being more of a dog person, I left the calico alone and headed for the kitchen.

I heard them long before I arrived, Nathan and Mattie laughing, Dick snickering and Alfred begging for help from up high. Selina's voice cut in briefly, silencing Dick but leaving the kids still very much entertained. Stepping into the kitchen, I spotted everyone was seated in the nook, save for Alfred who chose to stand guard in the kitchen. He was the first to spot me, quickly greeting, "Good afternoon, Master Tim."

Mattie smiled, "About time you woke up."

Taking the seat between Cass and Selina, I replied, "It's the weekend, I can do whatever I want."

I barely had pushed my chair closer to the table before Alfred appeared with a plate for me and a tall glass of water. Thanking him, my eyes immediately warned my stomach that it was about to indulge in one of its favorite Pennyworth concoctions. His Croque Monsieurs were unmatched by any French bakery with thinly sliced ham topped with gratin of béchamel and Swiss cheese. As if that wasn't enough, he had paired it with green leaf salad, chevre cheese, candied walnuts and a raspberry vinaigrette. The piece du resistance, however, was mouth watering bite-sized pieces of goat cheese, battered and fried to perfection.

It was a miracle in itself that Dick hadn't eaten them all while waiting for me.

Nathan, who had a dollop of Dijon on his lower lip, looked to me and then up at his mother, "How come I didn't know there was a sleepover last night?"

She nudged Nathan's linen napkin closer to him before pointing out the yellow mark. As he wiped it, she answered, "It wasn't a real sleepover, kiddo, they all went to bed right around the same time you did."

"Can we have a real one tonight?"

"We'll see," Selina appeased him.

The conversation was light over lunch, focusing intently on teasing Mattie for her date night with Terry and applauded Nathan for loosing another tooth. I had asked where Robbie was at one point and Dick answered that he and Ace were passed out in the den after romping outside with the world's most energetic six-year-old. Somehow, I waited until Cass helped Mattie and Nathan carry the dirtied dishes into the kitchen to ask where Bruce was.

Selina replied, "In the Cave… Barbara couldn't find anything on thirty year old security logs, so he decided that he could."

Dick shook his head as he sat back in his chair, "Babs said the system back then was prehistoric compared to what it is now… even if something happened, there weren't nearly as many sensors or cameras, let alone countermeasures. I mean, we're talking the Before Bane era."

"At least it will give him something else to focus on…" Selina sighed.

"How is he feeling?" I asked, drawing her eyes to me.

She hesitated before admitting, "Better, actually. I think after talking with… Talia this morning, he feels more in control. Now whether or not she told him the truth…"

Dick offered his input, "From what I saw this morning, she's not the same demon spawn we all knew and loathed. I'm not saying I trust her, but… she certainly hasn't enjoyed the last fifteen years."

Selina rose to her feet suddenly, "Well, I'll keep the kids and canines occupied… go make sure Bruce isn't screaming at Barbara for no reason."

Dick nodded and I said, "Will do."

We watched silently as she walked out of the nook and disappeared.

Twenty-four hours earlier, I had been jokingly fighting with Cass over the remaining half of a pulled pork sandwich, bowing out and settling for a pair of hastily made grilled cheeses. Dick and Barbara had probably been playing with Ethan, playing tag in the den or peekaboo in the nursery. Bruce had been spending time with Selina and the kids and Alfred and Leslie had been at the clinic's luncheon.

Twenty-fours had turned our lives upside down.

And not for the better.

^V^


	8. Come What May:  VIII

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: The Family is torn between trusting Taila… and one another.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay. Losing my job of four years, moving, starting life anew and all sorts of other drama stole my author time and initiative… All better now!

^V^

At quarter after five, I had started my morning by taking Ace out of my brother's room.

The plan was that in the event of being caught, I had the alibi that I was taking him outside for a walk. With Ace at my heels, I had gone downstairs and into the study, setting my sights on my father's computer. Thanks to tutelage from both Barbara and Tim, I had been able to see that the security for the Manor wasn't on _set phasers to kill_ mode. In fact, the system of the property's perimeter was elevated more so than that of the actual house. The ground floor windows and entrances were all locked and secured, but that was no different from any other night.

The only elevated security flag was on the second floor, the secure room that Talia had been anchored in.

Even though the lock-down threats, such as tranquilizer darts or tear gas ejected from the walls, would not pose a threat, the standard security measures still made my plan a task to execute. My key adversaries had been the ultrasonic motion sensors and the electronic locks. It took nearly twenty minutes of doing battle with the computer, but finally I had managed to unlock the French doors leading out onto the terrace. Having spent months finding my way out of and back into the Manor at night, toying with the security system had practically become a past time.

I had yet to master biometric based security measures, something Mom had promised to teach me over the winter.

Knowing I had limited time before Alfred started his day, I had set the terrace doors to re-lock within twenty-five minutes. There was no turning off the motion sensors that were stationed every two feet from the floor to ceiling in front of the door. Thankfully, my mother had taught me how to bypass that particular device. Ace still with me, I had stopped at the ground floor linen closet to retrieve a bed sheet. In the field, I would have used my cape to absorb the sound waves, but since I had been in the comfort of my own home, I had been able to use Egyptian cotton.

Telling Ace to down and stay, I had proceeded to hold two corners of the sheet above my head, letting it drape down in front of me. I had slowly walked forward, the ultrasonic waves hitting the soft material instead of detecting my presence. Once through, I had opened the door, stepped through and closed it in one fluid movement. Through the glass of the door, I had raised a hand, signaling Ace to stay put.

Unfortunately, the gimmick had no way of working on a dog.

With dawn still a ways off, I had relied on the small, high powered LED flashlight I had on my key ring. It fit in my palm but it was just as powerful as a handheld search light. Wasting no time, I had started to jog in the cold morning air, quickly heading towards the gentle slope to the right of the house. Twenty-five minutes was cutting it close, but the time constraint had been necessary to make it back before Alfred came downstairs.

He had planted the seed of curiosity in me, one I had needed to sate.

For generations, Waynes had been buried on the grounds save for two that were in Arlington National Cemetery. On numerous occasions, my father had taken myself and Nathan up to lay fresh flowers on the graves of his parents. The first few times I had gone up, I had been scared but growing older, I had found myself becoming intrigued. I had looked upon the graves of my ancestors dating back centuries, amazed when my father had been able to explain who each and every single one had been.

The only marker that had stood out amongst all of the Waynes had belonged to Jason Todd.

After telling me the truth about our Family years earlier, Dad had waited to explain the circumstances surrounding Jason's death. I had seen the grave, the glass display case in the Cave and the logs relating to the incident leading to his demise. When Dad had finally come clean on the subject, I had immediately understood why it had been so difficult to say the words aloud. The night I had escaped the Manor to try my hand at premature crime fighting, my safe return had still brought tears to my father's eyes.

He had told me that night that he had lost one child to the Joker and that he couldn't survive losing another.

Reaching the open gates of the cemetery, I had held my breath while casting the light over the stones, finding backhoe looming quietly in the northwest corner. Approaching, I had slowly exhaled, preparing myself for something worse than fictional drooling zombies. Approaching the edge, I had paused before aiming the light down into the dark hole. The coffin was closed, and I had twelve minutes to get back inside the house before the doors locked again.

Running back to the Manor with six minutes left, my eyes were welling with tears.

I had made it to the terrace with a minute and forty seconds to spare. Once I had entered undetected, I shed my shoes and wrapped them in the sheet before dropping both down the laundry chute. Going to the kitchen would have possibly allowed me to further develop my alibi for the morning by running into Alfred, but my red eyes and cheeks would have been a giveaway. Instead, I had retreated upstairs, returning Ace to his master before sneaking back into my room. I had crawled into bed, turning on my bedside lamp and staring at it directly.

Anything to white out the sight burned into my mind.

The remainder of the morning had been spent in my room. Staying in seclusion, I had alternated between meek attempts at distracting myself with homework, TV and even trying to trim Taffy's nails. No matter what, it had been impossible to focus on anything aside from the fact that the peace our Family had finally been granted was about to be revoked. As a last resort, I had prepared myself for the day with a shower and a fresh change of clothes.

On some level, I had been hoping to fool myself into thinking that morning had been a bad dream instead of just a flat out bad idea.

A bad idea that had only been trumped by arguing with my father the night before.

I knew he had been stressed over what was happening, compounded by the fact that I had disobeyed my mother and left Alfred's watch. Instead of keeping my mouth shut and accepting the facts he had shared were the only ones I needed to concern myself with, I had demanded the truth. The last time we had fought had been about his not telling my mother and I about the transmission. All that had resulted from that feud had been an asthma attack for myself and a seizure for my father.

Not that it had stopped me from snapping at him again, or him yelling back at me.

…_He won't listen. He never does…_

The truth had been that the he was always listening, it was just a matter of whether or not what I said mattered.

Between my eavesdropping, Alfred's momentary lapse in maintaining his guard and finding the empty coffin that morning, I had put the pieces together. Talia had said something that had forced my father to dig up the grave of Jason Todd. Knowing her father's ability to raise the dead, I had spent the morning wondering if the ghost that had haunted my father for nearly two decades was back from the dead. It had fit the transmission she had sent, about her father's new ally being someone from his past, an abomination that had caused strife before and after death.

But the sheer thought of it actually being a reality had left my throat tight and sent shivers down my spine…

"Mattie?" I had heard my mother's voice before a soft rapping on my door.

I had just stepped out of the bathroom, readjusting the towel on my head while responding, "Come in."

She had opened the door only enough to peer inside, "Good you're up…."

"Yeah," I had faked a yawn before finishing, "Figured I might as well drag myself out of bed."

Mom had nodded, but said nothing.

Taking the initiative, I had asked, "Where's Dad?"

The soft look on my mother's face had instantly soured before a weak attempt at recovery, "He… he went downstairs."

"To talk to Talia?"

The sound of my voice saying the mystery woman's name made my mother's mouth twitch, "Yes." After a pause, she had added, "Well, I'm going to head downstairs… don't stay locked up here all morning, okay?"

Despite wanting nothing more than to do exactly that, I had waited ten minutes before slowly stepping into the corridor and walking towards the master bedroom. Surprisingly enough, Dad had been inside, sitting alone on the bed while staring down at his bandaged hand. Sitting beside him, I listened as he briefly lectured me, but he had first explained his actions before asking for forgiveness. Not only that, he had revoked his decision to cancel my night with Terry, even without me pleading and begging and pouting. His change in heart had made me wonder if he was also willing to share more about what had happened the night before.

Seeing the tired look on his face, I had been unable to vocalize my thoughts, let alone inform him that I had a good grasp of what was going on, that he didn't have to go through the motions of trying to shield me. Instead, all I had managed was a jumbled inquiry asking if he had learned anything from Talia. As expected, he hadn't divulged anything, not even commenting on the fact that Mom had blatantly told me what he had been up to that morning.

I had asked if he was helping her because he liked her and he had reminded me that heroes protected everyone, whether they liked them or not.

Judging by the scowl my mother had worn since Talia's arrival, I had reasoned that the helping would rely heavily on my father.

Before leaving, I had kissed his cheek, thanking him for letting me go to Terry's that evening. Retreating to my room, I had shut the door and crossed to my bathroom in order to blow dry my hair. Even that simple of a task had been difficult, my mind not able to focus. Once ready for a day of nothing, I had taken a seat on my bed, crossed my legs and leaned forward to rest my elbows on my knees. I could have meditated like Cass had taught me or even distracted myself by trying again for homework or another movie, but instead I had simply sat there, letting my mind wander to dark places.

So much for a vacation…

By the time midday arrived, I forced myself to head downstairs to socialize and help prepare lunch for everyone. I was relieved to find that Cass and Tim as well as Dick were still present, joining my mother and brother for lunch. Somehow, we all fit into the nook, focusing on eating and enjoying each other's company. Looking at us, you would have never guessed that anything was amiss, that we were just a happy and relatively normal Family.

Except after lunch, four members of the Family went into the massive cavern beneath the Manor while the others headed for the den to relax the afternoon away…

My father was at his neglected post in the computer bay, not even acknowledging our presence as we crossed the main floor of the Cave. Tim and Dick flocked to him while Cass and I changed in the costume vault, both remaining silent in hopes of hearing their echoing voices. Emerging in leggings and a lyrca top, I started to head towards them but Cass ushered me towards the training mats without saying a word.

Warming up, I still trained my eyes and ears up above, straying only once when Tim approached, "Handle working your own routine today?"

I shrugged, having just completed sequenced body stretches to limber my joints and wake sleepy muscles. After rolling my head, I asked, "Can you handle not bossing me around?"

He smirked, "I think I'll manage."

Both he and Cass went their separate ways, opting to push their own limits on the equipment, letting me follow my own initiative. I watched them as well, studying Cass as she effortlessly worked her way through routines on the rings, parallel and uneven bars. Where Dick's work on gymnastic equipment was fluid and technically perfect, Cass preferred to move at faster speeds, testing her ability to adapt to the degree of difficulty.

Tim also put himself through the paces with a rapid succession of pull-ups, dead lifts, pushups, box jumps, Kettlebell work and book ended with more pull-ups. He called it the Spartan workout as the total repetitions for all of the exercises was three hundred. I remembered once having my father compliment him on it for the efficient and compact drill that developed muscle and endurance.

Tim had confessed once that the real reason he called it the Spartan workout because it was the same one used for the movie "300".

To me, though, never to Dad.

I also worked with the weights and the gymnastic equipment, but I found myself focusing more on the hands-on drills. Punch bag work, katas with and without weaponry and working on my aim with Batarangs and bolos on the poor, unsuspecting targets and padded dummies. After mock fighting for nearly an hour, Cass approached me, "Ready?"

"For a break," I sighed, reaching to the hand towel I had on the floor nearby, "And a shower."

Cass smirked, "So I see. Well, you can go up if you want, we were about to call it quits anyway."

With my face and neck wiped, I looked up at her, "We're not sparring?"

Her smile grew, "It's nearly five."

"What?" I replied in disbelief that it had actually been four hours.

I spotted Tim approaching, gently probing the pink mark on his right bicep. A bullet had clipped him a couple of weeks earlier and although the wound had closed, I noted that he had still inspected it regularly. When he paused to stand before us, Tim nodded, "Yeah, I probably could use a break, too… shower, walk Robbie… sneak into the kitchen."

Looking up to the computer bay, Cass noted, "Dick went upstairs, there's probably nothing left."

"True… maybe Chef Mattie can fix that."

I shook my head, "No, I've got to get ready."

"For what?" Tim asked.

"A date," I smirked up at him.

His brow rose, "I wish I was going on a date…" Tim then looked to Cass, "We should go on a date. Right now."

She rolled her eyes at him before looking to me, "Have fun."

"You, too."

I had started my morning in an empty grave, been unable to ease my father's suffering, and had accomplished nothing that afternoon save for needing a second shower.

In fact, the only worthy success for the day had been convincing everyone that I was fine, oblivious to the secret going on's of our Family.

I just hoped that when I saw Terry, I didn't burst into tears.

^V^

Watching intently from the other side of the study, I waited for Miss Mattie to secure the grandfather clock entrance before speaking.

Dressed as she was most afternoons in leggings and Lycra top, her cream colored skin was branded with a strong flush, her dark hair in a damp, chaotic bun. Given that she had opted to act reclusive for the morning, it was apparent that she had been able to exert her pent up energy and then some. Considering that her mentors were not with her, I wondered what state of disarray they were in, pushing their physical limits, working out their own frustrations…

She crouched to retie one of her blue and white sneakers and I waited until she had risen before announcing my presence, "I see that Master Tim has put you through your paces, my dear."

She turned quickly, smiling to see not only myself, but her elder brother as he joined us in the room. Miss Mattie gestured to her disheveled form, "Did this to myself."

"Lesson number one," Master Dick stepped forward, "Always blame physical torture on someone else, makes you seem less crazy."

"Is that so?" she cocked her head while approaching.

"You want to seem a little crazy, not a lot," he clarified while pausing to stand beside her, "It's a fine line sort of a thing… Oh and lesson two…we do have showers downstairs, you know?"

"I know…" a grin spread over Miss Mattie's lips before she lurched at him, "I just wanted to give you a hug!"

After chasing him two strides, she wrapped her arms around his middle, pressing her sweaty form against his. While Master Dick tried to defend himself, he cried out theatrically, "Must… escape… stinky… teenager…"

Given that the last twenty-four hours had been filled with dread and worry, it was uplifting to see their momentary lapse into the roles of carefree brother and sister. When she finally released him, Miss Mattie looked over to see that I was still standing safely out of the tomfoolery range, "Is Mom upstairs?"

Offering a curt shake of my head, I then explained, "Your mother is with Master Nathan on the back lawn, tiring both he and his canine companion."

Before I could inquire as to whether or not she intended on dining with the Family or with her beau that evening, she jogged out of the room, opting to thank me verbally in place of an aromatic embrace.

While righting his shirt, Master Dick noted, "Where is she off to? Seems early for her to be calling it quits in the Cave…"

Finally approaching the clock, I answered, "Miss Mattie has a social engagement to attend to."

"A date? Thought Bruce said she was grounded?"

As I unlocked the entrance, I replied, "It seems as if he has had a change of heart."

"Change of heart? With Talia under his roof? When was the last time we scanned him for nanobots?" Master Dick sighed as the clock moved on its hidden hinges, pausing before passing through the entrance. "Still, I guess it's better than her sitting home, hacking into the surveillance footage we have on the secure room…"

Without another word, he about faced and disappeared into the darkness, his footfalls barely sounding on the stone steps. Before following him, I glanced over at the oil portrait above the fireplace, studying content faces immortalized on the canvas. With Master Dick's footsteps fading away, I shook my head and sighed, "Your grandchildren are something to behold…"

Unlike Miss Mattie, I had endured an entire day of productivity rather than pushing it off to the late afternoon. Tending to the Manor and its bountiful guests had made up for the majority of my schedule, my ambitiousness having been forced given that I had hardly slept an hour the night before. Whether it was my mind racing with thoughts of what was to be done with our unannounced guest or the insatiable worry of how Master Bruce was fairing following his poor spell, I had been unable to find peace. Leslie had managed to remain still beside me, although she had been just as awake as I.

At midnight, when she had risen to check on Master Bruce, I had offered to join her but she had declined. "I'm just going to peek through the door," she had explained while donning her housecoat, "No need for reinforcements."

When I had tried to rebut, she had shushed me and promised to return in five minutes. Needless to say, it had been a very long four minutes and fifty seconds, sitting on the bed, my tired and aching hands keeping busy by adjusting the duvet. When the door had opened, I had leapt to my feet, startling Leslie.

"Alfred…"

"How was he?"

"Fine," she had explained while taking her place in the bed, "And awake. He did indicate that he wanted to berate me for sedating him so heavily… but in the morning."

It would have been blatantly rude to push the matter at the hour, and it had taken all of my etiquette reserves to keep from doing so. Following her lead, I had also returned to bed, fruitlessly adjusting the blankets and pillows to provide comfort whilst knowing it would make no difference. I very well could have been laying on cold concrete instead of a therapeutic foam mattress, sleep still escaping me.

When Leslie's breaths had grown repetitive and slow, I had sighed quietly. Given Master Bruce's poor spell Thanksgiving, in addition to the seizure and subsequent fall shortly after, it was no wonder that he was out of sorts. Had a completely rested and well version of himself been surprised by Ms. Talia's presence in the Cave, surely she would have been sent to the Watchtower to be interrogated and imprisoned for the time being.

Keeping her under the same roof as his Family seemed out of character, even following the line of keeping one's friends close and enemies even closer.

And the dreaded business with Master Jason's absent remains should have resulted in my eldest charge suffering from an inconsolable rage, not a panic attack…

A fitful sleep, or perhaps more fitting a fitful state of unconsciousness, had found me shortly before dawn. Rising, I had left Leslie's slumbering form in order to trade in rumpled bedclothes for a pair of pressed slacks, a button down shirt and a light, green sweater. Donning my well-worn Oxfords, I had proceeded back towards the bedroom to find Leslie already sitting on the bed, wearing fresh blue scrubs and diligently tying her pristine white sneakers.

Before I could dissuade her from going to work for the day, she had shaken her head, "There are plenty of you here to watch over things… there aren't at the Clinic."

We had spent the ride into the city replaying the previous night, discussing Bruce's well being, the manner in which he had poorly broken the news to his children and his snapping at Miss Mattie. When a silence had finally settled between us, she had broken it by saying, "Nothing gold can stay…"

"I beg your pardon?"

Leslie had focused intently on her hands as they rested in her lap, "I was just beginning to accept that things were… okay. That this Family was okay. That Bruce was..." When I had no response, she had finished, "I just don't understand."

"I feel it is the opposite, Leslie, you understand all too well."

"No, you understand this far better than I do… you always have."

Although I had desired to set my hand on hers, the tension her face and form had deterred me. Instead, I had simply offered, "I suppose I do…" After a brief pause, I had added, "And, I suppose that is why I know, for certain, that Master Bruce is doing what is best for the Family. Even if we disagree."

Leslie had kept her eyes averted while admitting, "When he stepped down, it was only in the physical sense… Seven years and he's still out there… mentally, psychologically… even emotionally. And every time I think he's actually started to leave it all behind, something like this happens, dragging him back… hurting him… nearly killing him." She had finally turned her head, her pale eyes filled with pain, "It's never going to end."

"Leslie," I had reached out, taking her hand into mine, "He will never be able to shed his former role… but we mustn't forget the roles he has gained… as a father, a husband… a grandfather even. Things we always wanted for him, things we once thought would never be… and yet despite himself, his quest, his burdens… he has achieved them."

Something dark happened to her eyes before she had replied, "But how long will he be able to enjoy them?"

"Leslie-."

She had cut me off, pulling her hand from mine. She had not uttered another word until I had pulled into the parking lot behind the Free Clinic, "I have never wanted anything for myself, Alfred… only for him. And seeing him like that… and for it to not even phase him… I have to wonder what he wants."

As she had opened the door and stepped out, I had offered, "He wants for others as well… just as he learned from you."

The ride home had been in solitude, but it had not been in silence, my mind echoing Leslie's worries. Returning to the manor, I had arranged for breakfast for the few that had risen and promptly went about tending to the house itself. Keeping as busy as possible, the first I had encountered more than two members of the Family at once had been as I had prepared lunch. Even then, I had returned to my duties once the others had departed from the kitchen nook, each animated following their midday meal and sharing a brief amount of time together as a Family.

No, not the entire Family…

Master Dick had joined his younger siblings for the meal, as had Ms. Selina and Ms. Cassandra. When Master Tim had risen from his well deserved nap, he had also taken a seat at the nook's table. Ms. Barbara was still in the city, watching over her child, although there was no doubt she would trek to the Manor that evening. Leaving Master Bruce alone in the Cave and his guest, securely locked in her room.

With the kitchen in order, save for a serving tray, I had retreated to the laundry room. There, I had promptly rotated the wash and folded the clean rugs and towels for the master bathroom. Pulling them from the dryer, I had been surprised to see they were bright white despite the bloody state I had found them in the night before. Bright and clean, as if nothing had happened.

Upon setting them in a small basket, I had proceeded to collect fresh linens for the Manor's unexpected guest. I had tended to the various other rooms throughout the day, leaving hers for last, knowing full well it would need to be catered to with supervision. Before seeking out backup, I had loaded the full basket in the elevator. My first guess had been to search the Cave for the various members of the Family, but I had been pleased to hear voices in the informal den, entering the room to find Master Dick on the telephone.

I had waited courteously for him to pocket the cellular device before clearing my throat. He had turned while declaring, "Little Eggman is down for his nap… Babs will head out after he wakes up."

"Very good, sir," I had replied, adjusting the small basket in my hands. I had then proposed, "Might one inquire as to whether you have a spare moment?"

"For you, I have oodles of spare moments… what's up?" After informing him of my remaining task for the day, he had nodded, "Ah… Yeah no problem."

He had followed me in silence back to the kitchen, carefully taking the tray in both hands. From there, we had ascended in the elevator to the second floor. I had heard him humming softly, resembling one of the program themes his son was fond of. Although it had been natural for Master Dick to remain at the Manor to stand guard, I knew as difficult as it would be, he would have to return to the city, to his wife and child.

Understandable, given his innate and unflappable drive to protect his mentor was just as present in the role in his own home.

Thankfully, Master Dick had seen to delivering breakfast to Ms. Talia that morning, allowing me to avoid facing her. We had briefly encountered one another while Master Tim had showed her to the secure quarters, but that had been before Master Bruce had…

Whatever words had passed between her and Master Bruce the night before had pushed him over a precipice, a feat I had been more than willing to return in favor. Literally, if not figuratively.

Balancing the tray on one palm, Master Dick had de-activated the locking mechanism and then knocked sharply. There had been a soft reply from within and he had not hesitated in opening the door, allowing me to pass through before closing it behind us. The clothes I had left on the dresser the previous night had been put to use, fitting her fairly well. Certainly, they weren't the tailored garments she had spent years wearing, but they would have to suffice.

Ms. Talia had greeted me as if we had been old friends, a warm smile on her lips, a look of admiration in her eyes, "Alfred, it is so very good to see you."

Maintaining my polite demeanor, I had replied, "And you, madam."

"All right, no more chit chatting," Master Dick had intervened, "Fresh sheets and towels. Food. Anything else?"

As he had set the tray on her bedside table and picked up the one that had barely been touched, Ms. Talia had inquired, "Is Bruce coming back? I feel our conversation this morning did not end well."

"You think?" Master Dick had quipped.

Remaining silent, I proceeded to change the bed sheets. Ms. Talia's gaze fell over me momentarily before she had replied, "Your sarcasm does not befit your charm, Richard."

"My apologies. I'll try to be more grateful that you've dumped your problems on us."

"I beg your pardon," she had nearly gasped.

"Seems to me, every time you talk to Bruce, it just makes matters worse-."

She had been quick to interrupt him, "Just as it seems that every time I speak with you, you act more juvenile."

Before he could have formed a response, I had found my voice, "That is enough."

They both had looked to me, neither able to disguise their shock.

Rather than continue the argument, Master Dick had stalked to the bed, silently aiding me in changing the bedding. Whether it was to make our visit as brief as possible or to avoid the look Ms. Talia had been giving him, I had been uncertain.

Leaving her room, I had made my way to the third floor via the elevator while he had set his sights on the stairwell at the end of the corridor. I had not seen him for the remainder of the afternoon, adding more troubling thoughts to those already swimming my tired brain. Surely he had known that losing his temper before her was a sign of weakness, one none of us could afford so early into our latest sorrow. Very rarely had I raised my voice to him, and only when it had been absolutely necessary.

But had it been? Had I wronged him?

When our paths crossed again heading to the study, I had tried to apologize, but Master Dick had interrupted me, "Al, you were right… I should have held my tongue… there was nothing to gain by fighting with her. I'm sorry."

If he hadn't been remorseful at that moment, he surely had been seconds later in a tight embrace from his sweat-covered sister.

^V^

I had yet to shower following my abbreviated workout in the training bay, the sweat on my skin long since evaporated, leaving behind only its aroma. When Mattie had left to get ready for her date with Terry, Cass wisely opted to wash and change. When I had started towards the vault, I had spotted Dick descending the stairs, prompting me to change course.

"Is Barbara here yet?" I had asked as he jumped over the last two steps.

"Nope, Egg-man is napping."

When I turned around to head towards the computer bay, I noticed Cass just stepping into the vault. A custom of late had her restocking belts and supplies in the cycles and the Mobile before patrols. I had always preferred to do it for personal and customary reasons, but in the last two weeks, she had taken the responsibility unto herself. Just as she had taken on patrols by herself without question while we had stood guard at the Manor…

As much as I wanted to recline back into the computer console's chair, I opted to sit upright, my eyes darting from one display to the next. While I had been working out my pent up frustrations, Bruce had done the same only with the keyboard. When I had been doing battle with kettlebells, Dick had joined Bruce briefly, no doubt checking in on our mentor as much as he was trying force help on him. When I had momentarily paused my one-man brawl with the sand bag, I had noticed that Dick had departed, leaving Bruce as he wanted to be: alone.

From the look of the monitor, he had managed to get quite a bit accomplished. Using the touch pad beside the keyboard, I brushed aside the muted early evening news screen, the JLA weekly report I hadn't even looked at and the logs Barbara had entered the night before in my absence. That left a video feed of Talia's room, the interactive map of Ra's al Ghul's global bases of operation along with my weak attempt at documenting the last twenty-four hours in written form. I had no problem with Bruce reading through my rough draft efforts, but I was mildly worried my sheer dread may have come across a bit too much.

A task considering my thoughts kept getting interrupted with images of Bruce's unconscious body on the bloodied bathroom floor…

Dick's voice sounded from behind my right shoulder, "He seemed pretty ambitious earlier…"

"I am still trying to make sense of it all at this point."

Dick's reflection on the monitor shrugged, "Waste of time. You know that. Same story, different villain."

I scratched at a healing scab on my right forearm, my eyes never leaving the screen depicting Talia sitting by the bay window of her room. The look on her face was torn between solemn and woeful. From the story she had been spinning, she should have had at least had a bit of worry cresting her smooth brow.

"After all of these months… for her to just show up like this…" Dick sighed as he turned away from Talia's placid image, crossing his arms over his chest before adding, "I don't like it."

"Me either," I responded, frowning at the droplet of blood I had brought forth from my arm. Wiping my fingers on my shirtfront, I continued, "None of us do."

"I've seen her do this to him one too many times. Some sob story, denouncing her father and his sinister plans, begging for help… and then once she has him wrapped around her finger, she commences the back-stabbing."

Before Ra's had gone into hiding, I had my fair share of dealings with him. His League of Assassins had infiltrated the Cave when I had still been training to become Robin and even after I had helped fight them off, Bruce had voluntarily gone as their captive. Not long after, the plague had been released in Gotham, resulting in a wild global goose chase to hunt down Ra's and seek revenge. From there, we had danced once more, Ra's using Bruce's protocols to cripple the entire Justice League, protocols that his sweet daughter had stolen from Bruce.

Not long before she had sold LexCorp to the Wayne Foundation.

I felt like sighing out of sheer frustration at our predicament, but grunted softly instead.

A new window opened up, revealing Barbara's tired face. Her auburn hair was tied back in a chaotic bun, glasses balancing on her brow and Cheerio was stuck to the front of her black sweater. She offered a weak smile and then, "He is out like a light… figured I could at least play catch up with you guys."

As her eyes seemingly scanned the Cave's computer bay, Dick turned around, "Not much to catch up on…"

"On your end, maybe… Where's Bruce?"

"Upstairs… figured it wasn't worth Alfred's wrath to deter Bruce voluntarily taking a break."

She nodded, "Agreed… Well, anyway, I'm sending you what I've been working on all day. With what satellite access I could muster, I've checked off a few bases that have zero activity, mostly those in western Asia, Australia and southern Africa. Even with the remaining known bases that we have on file, there's no knowing what new facilities he has been able to put up over the last fifteen years."

"I bet there is someone who does know," I spoke softly.

"Has she been questioned further?" Barbara asked.

I shook my head but Dick replied, "I spoke to her briefly this morning, so did Bruce. No intel on bases or locations. Just… about Jason."

Barbara gave herself a fraction of a pause before getting back to business, "Well the base she mentioned in the Congo isn't showing any signs of habitation… the satellite images show the trails to it are overgrown and impassable, no electromagnetic charges, no radar or transmissions… No doubt she picked it as her decoy in order to keep her father's men busy."

The maps she had been working on suddenly appeared on the display before us, zooming out as she stated, "Nearest air field is forty-five miles away and the terrain is not vehicle friendly… best way is to go up the Sankuru River… Even with prime men hunting down Talia, it's going to take them a while."

"Far be it from the Demon's Head to have an easily accessibly lair," Dick mused.

She detailed a number of other suspicious locales that had been the most ideal bases of operation, regrettably reporting that each seemed to be non-operational. Having not yet questioned Talia at length, we were just chipping away at the tip of the ice burg. Save for the brief time I had shut the cameras off for Bruce to speak with her and the few hours I had fitfully slept, I had spent most of the last twenty-four hours watching her every move.

She had been sticking to her story so far, mainly emotional, vague confessions as opposed to cold, hard fact.

But when push evolved to shove…

Speaking with Dick after lunch earlier in the day, he had replayed his brief, unpleasant encounter with her that Alfred had refereed. He had tried to formulate an excuse for losing his cool with her but had eventually shrugged in defeat. At that, he had explained, "I know she has no clue how bad off Bruce was last night… Hell, I don't even know…"

Nodding, I had been standing quietly beside him, leaning against the wrought iron railing of the back terrace. Even though I had just been refreshed by the preceding forty minutes spent lunching with him, Cass, Selina and the kids, the bad vibes from the night before started to creep back up. Alfred's panicky eyes, the bloodied bathroom floor, Bruce's limp body… Selina's voice shaking as she thanked me.

I certainly had a clue as to how bad off Bruce had been.

Dick had continued, "Still… the fact that she had seemed so concerned for him… it just made me angry."

Again, I had remained silent.

Barbara's voice over the speakers brought my attention back into focus, "Where's Bruce?"

Dick answered her, "He came upstairs a little while ago… hopefully to rest."

Her head nodded on the big display, "Well, no doubt Alfred won't let the great minds gather before dinner. I'll tinker some more on my end, then head up your way after Ethan wakes up."

I nodded while rising to my feet, "Thank you, Barbara."

"Don't thank me yet… you'll jinx me," she replied before closing the Oracom link.

Turning to Dick, I said, "Well, I'm going to shower… change… then I'll meet you upstairs."

He tugged at his right ear lobe briefly before responding, "Sure thing."

Finally heading towards the vault, Cassandra emerged in clean, grey cotton pants that cut off just below her calves. She had continued her casual theme with a fitted black three-quarter sleeve tee shirt with a wide cut neck that dipped just below her collar bones. With her hair still damp and cheeks slightly pink, Cass smirked, "Took you long enough. Showered, changed, restocked belts and boots."

"I'll be five minutes. You can head upstairs if you want."

"Five minutes… I'll wait."

It had ended up being closer to ten minutes by the time I emerged from what Mattie called the Bat-Locker room, showered, shaved and sporting clean dark jeans and a navy blue Henley shirt. She had waited for me, standing at the computer workstation, eyes skimming the monitor glowing before her. As I approached, she didn't look away but still asked, "Ready?"

I waited until I paused beside her, leaning in to kiss her cheek before responding, "I am now."

We found Dick in the entertainment den, doing his best to outwit Nathan on Mario Kart for the Wii. Ace, who had been laying at the young boy's feet, glanced our way before letting his tail thump against the thick rug. Momentarily distracted by our arrival, Nathan accidentally drove his Luigi avatar into a wall, giving Dick's Waluigi the room to advance. Just as Dick had nearly declared victory, he sped over a banana peel and went careening over a cliff.

Jumping to his feet, Nathan laughed and cried out, "I win, I win!"

As we took a seat on the sofa adjacent to the feuding brothers, Dick set his steering wheel controller down and sighed, "Fine… but if we were playing Zelda, it would be a whole different story."

"Mattie has that upstairs… I can go get it," Nathan grinned, proudly showcasing his missing incisor.

Before Dick could urge him on any further, Alfred announced his presence while entering the room, "Perhaps another time, Master Nathan. Dinner is ready."

Given that his sous chef had taken the evening off, Alfred had opted for a simple three course spread. Steaming French Onion soup hit the right spot before baked lemon-pepper chicken filled me up, along with savory sides of steamed cauliflower and broccoli and a zesty spinach salad. Just as with lunch, the mood was light and cheerful even in Mattie's absence. Selina joined us midway through the meal, taking her seat beside Nathan just before Alfred appeared with her amuse bouche.

And just like earlier that day, Bruce was no where to be found.

As she carefully tasted her French Onion soup, Selina asked, "Barbara on her way up? I didn't see her car out back."

Dick shook his head, "She texted a little while ago, was just leaving… But she is going to pick Leslie up so it might be a while."

"You are more than welcome to stay tonight," Selina offered, "No need to drive back if it gets late."

"Yeah, maybe," Dick replied, "I asked her to bring up an overnight bag for me. Not sure what her plan is for the wee one."

Nathan, who had been trying to hide his cauliflower in his potato for the last five minutes, looked up, "Another sleepover?"

"Sort of," his mother started to explain.

Before she could continue or before he could ask why the entire Family was staying at the house that night, Nathan's attention turned to the doorway. He grinned before jumping out of his chair and racing across the room, shouting, "Daddy!"

"Hey, tiger," he greeted after taking the brunt of his son's tackling hug.

While he untangled himself, Bruce told Nathan to go back to his seat. As he approached the table himself, Bruce gave us curt nods of acknowledgment, of which we promptly responded with equally brief smirks of acceptance. Selina was offered an apologetic look as took his seat on her right side, a look she opted to reject while diverting her attention to Nathan, telling him to eat his cauliflower. The light mood of the meal lost its natural feel, suddenly feeling forced.

Then again, the solemn look Bruce was battling reminded us all that everything was far from all right.

^V^

Dessert was a warm, flaky panini that was filled with warm fudge, crunchy nuts and slivers of bananas. In usual form, I had devoured mine as politely as possible, although for once it was not out of hunger. While the rest of the Family was able to sit and enjoy the treat at their leisure, I had a self assigned task to tend to, one I had already carried out twice that day.

When Tim and I had come up to the Manor for dinner, I had told him, "You get to play waiter tomorrow."

Excusing myself from the table, I left the dining room and made my way to the kitchen, ignoring the gazes from Wayne Senior and Junior. As always, Alfred had already tended to cleaning not only the dishes used in preparing dinner, but the plates and silverware that it had been served on. I spotted him just as he finished rinsing the sink, deftly turning the faucet off with his elbow while drying his hands on a navy blue towel.

"I can take something up to her if you have it ready," I offered.

Alfred glanced up and nodded slightly, "Very good, sir."

Given that she had barely touched her breakfast and lunch, Alfred had opted to give her smaller portions of the chicken, salad and steamed vegetables. He had even gone as far as not even bothering to giver her a cup of soup. Instead of a sliver of dessert, he had filled a carafe with ice water for Talia, an attempt to at least keep her hydrated.

As I lifted the tray from the marble counter, I offered, "I'll go up...", leaving by myself unsaid.

Without asking for clarification, he only replied, "As you wish, sir."

Alone, I walked out of the kitchen keeping the tray in both hands until reaching the elevator. Even with my mind working in circles, the music of the plate clinking with the silverware and the hum of the car descending, I still heard Bruce approaching. I turned just in time to catch his offer, "I'll take it up."

Balancing the tray in one hand before turning around to face him, "It's okay, been in charge of room service all day. Might as well finish up my shift."

As he slowly walked towards me, I noticed how intent he was on hiding the stiffness in his left leg. The look in his eyes had hardened since I had left him at the dining room table. I quickly attributed it to the fact that he was no longer in the audience of his son and wife and that Alfred was well out of scolding range. When Bruce finally paused to stand beside me, the elevator car arrived with a deafening ding.

I let him enter first, knowing there was no way I could dissuade him from joining me. Rather than making the ride up in silence, I asked, "Mattie coming home tonight?"

He cleared his throat before answering, "Selina is going to pick her up around eight."

Shifting the tray in my hands slightly, I offered, "Babs should be coming through with Leslie and Ethan, she could swing by if you want."

The elevator car braked softly before the gilded doors opened. Instead of answering, Bruce stepped off onto the plush carpeting of the second floor corridor. Before exiting, I muttered to myself, "Or not."

In three long strides, I was parallel with Bruce and as subtly as possible, I shortened my stride to match my speed with his. There once had been a time when I had to practically jog to keep up with him, and thinking so caused something to twinge with pain in my gut. Reaching the door, I watched as he disengaged the locks and opened the door without knocking.

Alfred would have verbally or at the very least physically scorned him for being so rude, even to an unwanted guest, but I simply followed him in silence. Much like earlier, Talia was sitting quietly by herself, although she had changed it up by selecting the overstuffed chair a few feet from her bed. With the room empty of any means of entertainment, she must have been occupying herself with introspection or scheme-hatching.

Closing the door behind us, I looked up as she offered a warm smile, one completely devoid of surprise. I responded with a curt nod while Bruce opted to go the stoic route. I thought it was odd that no one had said a word by the time I set the fresh tray down on her nightstand. Picking up the partially eaten one from lunch, it was down right frightening how tense and silent the room had become.

And I was standing between the two of them…

Bruce's voice finally cut through the silence, although it only seemed to add more tension, "We're meeting in the Cave tonight… afterwards, we'll discuss how things will be carried on from here on out."

"Is it too bold to inquire if I can attend this meeting in person?" Talia asked, rising from the chair. She was still in the dark slacks and fitted blouse from earlier, her tan, toned arms crossing over her chest as if she were feeling vulnerable.

"What do you think?" he replied in tone that suggested a Bat-Growl was brewing.

Before he could lose his temper with her, just as I had earlier in the day, I cleared my throat and said, "Eat up… I don't want to have to bring another half-full plate back downstairs… it will break Alfred's heart."

Talia recognized my intent instantly and smiled softly, "Very well… far be it for me to disappoint someone who has been so kind to me." Her eyes fell on Bruce one last time but he had already turned to leave.

The ride back down was as painful as the ride up had been moments earlier. When the car stopped on the ground floor, I stepped off with the lunch tray but was surprised when Bruce stayed put. I nearly asked if he was coming before realizing he was going straight down to the Cave.

"I'll be down once Barbara gets here," I informed him.

Without meeting my gaze, he said, "Fine," before shutting the door.

After a quick trip to the kitchen to load the tray's contents into the dishwasher, I navigated back to the dining room. As expected, I found that everyone had cleared out and the table had been cleaned up. From there, I stepped back into the corridor and listened intently to the silence, smirking when Nathan's laughter broke it. He was still laughing by the time I reached the entertainment den, causing me to smirk as I peered in from the doorway.

The reason for the boy's delight was that Tim was hanging him upside down from his ankles, swinging him like a pendulum. Cass stood beside Tim, helping him swing the boy back and forth by gently pushing him away whenever he neared. I then spotted Barbara on the far leather couch, Ethan bouncing up and down on her lap. Lastly, Ace sat at Barbara's feet, his eyes never leaving his master as he moved back and forth. Finding the room vacant of Alfred and Leslie, it was no wonder the shenanigans were being allowed.

Before I could enter and join in on the fun, I heard Selina and Alfred striding down the corridor. After I smiled at them, she asked, "What is going on in there?"

"Swing the Six Year Old," I replied as they came to stand beside me, "Tim is really good at it."

Alfred shook his head silently at the chaos but Selina opted to voice her opinion, "So I see… I wonder how good he is at playing Put the Riled Up Six Year Old to Bed?"

Smirking, I stepped aside so that she could enter the den, of which caused Tim to promptly spin Nathan upright and plop him down on the sofa. The boy rolled off and landed on the floor, his laughter only growing despite his predicament. Having been blamed for winding up my easily excitable little brother countless times, it was nice to see the worried look in Tim's eyes.

"Hey, Al… Selina."

Nathan was still laying on the floor, doing his best to shield his face from the lapping tongue of his German Shepherd. Given the volume and velocity that his laughter had reached, it would be some time before he settled down for bed time.

"Master Timothy, I would expect this sort of behavior from Master Dick, but never from yourself, sir."

Barbara smirked as she shook her head, "Told you so, Tim."

"Yeah, yeah…" Tim bent at the waist and hefted Nathan on to his feet, "Guess play time is over."

"Can't I stay up?" Nathan sat up and looked to his mother with pleading blue eyes. When Selina shook her head, he raced over to her, wrapping his slender arms around her waist, "Please, please, please…"

With a grin I had seen for far too many different reasons, Selina asked her son, "What did I say about whining?"

The boy took a moment to ponder before replying, "Only do it to Dad."

"That's right," she tussled his hair before adding, "Let's go. You can come with me to get Mattie but after that, it's bath time then bed time."

He sighed as he let her go, not entirely pleased with his partial victory. A thought lit up his face a second before he asked, "Can Ace come?"

Knowing that denying him a second time in as many minutes would lead to another bout of whining, Selina nodded and said, "Go find his leash."

As he trotted out of the room, Tim stepped forward, "Sorry about that."

Selina shrugged as she scanned the room with her green eyes, "Don't worry about it, he needed someone to tire him out… And apparently his father isn't present to do so."

Having been the last to see him, I spoke up, "He just headed down to the Cave. And I think he's waiting for us… and probably in a not so patient manner."

At the mere mention of our mentor and our awaiting meeting, it was tragic to see how everyone's faces changed. Alfred, who had also noticed the turn, stepped forward and took Ethan from Barbara, smiling when our son latched right a hold of his glasses. As Barbara double checked to make sure the diaper bag she had brought was prepared for the worst, I followed Tim and Cass into the hall, not surprised when Selina joined us.

What was surprising, her words as she departed, "I doubt he even wants me down there or that he will even wait for me to get Mattie and Nathan in to bed… so take diligent notes for me, Boy Wonders."

"Will do," Tim nodded as she turned and headed towards the front of the house.

I waited until we arrived at the grandfather clock before saying, "Me-ow."

"Yeah… I picked that up during dinner," Tim responded as he set the hands and waited for the locks to disengage.

Cass tried to be optimistic with, "Been a long day… long week."

"I know," I said after she began to descend the steps, opting to stay a few behind with Tim, "But something tells me he's sleeping on the couch for the foreseeable future."

We made our way to the main floor in silence, although I was uncertain if it was a way of preventing Bruce from overhearing us or simply that our thoughts were too burdening to vocalize. I veered to the left as Tim and Cass remained on course to the computer bay. While waiting for Barbara by the elevator, I looked up to see Bruce in his chair, not even acknowledging the approach of his protégés.

Not a moment later, the door receded, allowing Barbara to join me on the cold stone floor. She looked tired, exhausted even, but that didn't stop me from leaning over to kiss her softly on the lips. Patting the stubble just breeching my cheek, she replied with, "Missed you, too."

"How's Ethan?" I asked, standing upright beside her doing my best to make no movement towards the others.

"Good, he had a bath already and he ate…but I'm sure Alfred will be able to get some dessert into him…" she paused before adding, "I don't plan on staying long tonight."

"So I guess I don't need to ask if you were spending the night."

She shook her head then asked, "Are you?"

My eyes left her face long enough to find Tim and Cass just reaching Bruce, "I can live with sitting patrols out again… Tim can't."

Looking back to her, it seemed as if she had something else to say but instead she put her hands to the wheels and headed towards the computer bay. I remained in stride with her, opting to follow her up the short ramp to the elevated tier. As we leveled out, Tim nodded at me before asking, "You mind staying another night?"

Smirking, I replied, "No problem… Ethan has another incisor coming through, no doubt I will get more sleep here than at home."

"Thanks, hubby," Barbara groaned as she moved to sit at the workstation's counter, not a yard from Bruce.

"Any time, wifey…" I cleared my throat before adding, "So, what's the game plan?"

Bruce kept his gaze on the monitor, "Here's what we know…" He brought up a digital map of Europe and northern Africa, four former bases of the Demon's Head marked with red circles, "These are confirmed locations that Ra's has used in the past, and these," four more white circles emerged, "Are bases that were never verified but suspected. Any one of them, logically speaking, could have been the location that the original transmission originated from. When we can get more details from Talia, we will obviously be able to narrow it down."

Barbara then spoke up, "The men tracking her will take until the end of the week to find that the base in Molomba is empty… whether they fight going up river and over a few waterfalls or if they try to hack their way through the dirt roads and jungle."

"That is if they follow her false track to begin with," Tim pointed out.

"A possibility," Bruce replied, "But if they had managed to discover her ruse and track her to the States, they would know to come looking for her where she already has ties… If they knew she had crossed the Atlantic instead of trekking into the jungle, they would have found her by now."

Before I could bite my tongue, I said, "So that wouldn't fall under the category of things we know, then."

Tim's arms crossed over his chest before he set his lower back against the counter's edge, "Technically, we don't know anything. She's been so vague… changing topics left and right… trying to get a rise out of all of us… talking about Jason… her father's mysterious plans."

The look on Bruce's face said he was anything but impressed with his protégées remarks. As he fought the urge to let his lips twitch in anger, Bruce responded with, "When it comes to Ra's, nothing is for certain."

I wanted to correct him in saying that Talia should have been grouped in with her father but figured it would only give Bruce more reason to grimace and growl. Where I kept my mouth shut, I was surprised when Barbara spoke up again, "Anyway, keeping her will eventually act as a lure for the League of Assassins, especially if they have been able to track her for months, they have the means and the initiative to find her."

"Sitting ducks," Cass said softly.

Tim sighed and shook his head, "Ra's has to be using a small, elite team. Chosen few for the chosen task."

"So the best and brightest of the League of Assassins… that doesn't make them any less of a threat if they find her here," Barbara added.

I waited for Bruce to chime in, but Tim didn't, "Which is why I recommend moving her to the Watchtower. She can remain under guard, under surveillance, and it's a hell of a lot more difficult to sneak into outer space than it is into Gotham's city limits. I've already conferred with J'onn about taking-."

"No."

We all looked to Bruce as he rose to his feet, doing his best to make it seem effortless. In the last week had had suffered two grand mal seizures, a fall down the Cave steps and panic attack resulting from finding Jason's coffin devoid of his remains. The look of determination in his eyes, however rang false as he barely put any weight on his left leg and gripped the back of the chair for balance.

As if we needed the clarification, Bruce added, "This isn't any of their concern."

He had said that about the Joker escaping from Arkham.

About his stepping down from the mantle. The Quake. The Plague. Bane.

The matching furrowed brows on Barbara, Cass and Tim said they were thinking the same thing.

Once again, I remained silent and once more, Tim didn't. "I don't trust her. None of us do. Keeping her under lock and key in the Manor… it's only asking for trouble."

"Tim's right, Bruce," Barbara spoke up with the corner of Bruce's mouth twitched downwards, "We can't watch her every second, we can't keep everyone under lockdown in case they come for her. Not again."

He practically growled in response, "The Justice League has gone up against Ra's before, and have failed. She came here for our help, not to be pawned off on someone else."

"We don't know that."

We all looked to Tim, once again saying the words aloud that we had been hesitant to.

With four sets of eyes on him, Tim stood up right and uncrossed his arms, pointing towards the steps leading up to the manor, "We don't know she came for our help. If there's anything I've learned, is that every word that comes out her and her father's mouths can't be trusted. Yes, it appears that she is in trouble and she has no where to turn to, and that may very well be so… but she has been in trouble before with Ra's and has never come running to us for help. Not without it leading to a trap."

Lowering his arm, he finished, "So why now?"

^V^

Son and dog in tow, the ride into town was fairly uneventful. With his belly full, Nathan didn't even think about asking to stop for a milkshake at his favorite restaurant as we passed it. In fact, save for his petting Ace and jingling the tags on the dog's collar, it was a quiet ride. Pulling into Terry's driveway, Nathan asked, "Are you going to get her?"

"Yep," I replied, putting the car into park.

"Can I come?"

"Nope," I replied while unbuckling myself and turning around to look at him, "You wanted to bring Ace, you need to stay in the car with him."

"No fair… what if Terry wants to see Ace? It's been like forever since he's seen him."

Knowing full well that it was Nathan who wanted to see Terry, I shook my head, "I am sure he will come over for dinner at some point this week…"

He huffed in defeat, slouching against the dog seated beside him.

As I reached for my car door handle, I was surprised to see my daughter already quickly jogging down the brick steps and walkway. Most of the time, I had to practically corral her in order to get her to leave a friend's house, especially Terry's. Thankfully, she had been more than prepared to return home, no doubt curious as to what had gone on in her brief absence.

I spotted the paper bag in her right hand, assuming that her beau had found her a gift while he had been in Arizona for Thanksgiving break. Once she climbed into the passenger seat and buckled in, Mattie looked over at me and smiled, "Hey."

"All set?"

She nodded then looked to the house in front of us, namely to the waving figure in the picture window on the ground floor. Mattie waved back and I offered a quick horn honk before backing out of the driveway. As part of the normal childhood Bruce had wanted for his daughter, it very much included letting her be with her friends, letting her have dinner at her boyfriend's house and even sleeping in on Saturdays.

That middle one was still something he was getting used to, even after they hit the six month marker.

With Nathan and Ace starting up an in-depth conversation in the backseat, Mattie had wisely decided to sit up front with me on the ride home. We opted not to join in on the discussion of why Ace didn't howl at the moon, taking a different topic as our own.

"So how was his trip?" I asked as we came to a red light in downtown Bristol.

Mattie nodded and replied, "Good actually… he has a lot of pictures that he is going to put on Facebook… his grandma looks really young."

"Well, there's nothing wrong with being a young looking grandma," I smirked.

Out of the corner of my eye, I watched as Mattie opened up the paper gift bag that she had stepped out of Terry's house with. I had asked about it when she climbed into the car, but at the time, she had only described it as a gift. Given our light had yet to turn, she unearthed a realistic ceramic horse, marked with war paint.

"Very nice," I commented as she carefully wrapped it back up before returning it.

"Terry found it at this market he and his Dad went to… they actually watched the guy paint it."

"Very nice and very cool," I replied as the light finally turned green.

She nodded again, her smirk expanding into a smile, "And he has a pretty bad sunburn, just like I said he would."

"Well, should be a tan soon enough," I joked with her.

My daughter laughed, "No way… it's pretty bad, even with the super sun screen his dad made him use… his face is like a tomato."

"Poor Terry," I said while taking the left turn on the county highway that would lead us home. "Have enough for dinner? I know Alfred went a little overboard so there is still something left over if you want."

Mattie answered as she skimmed the channels of the satellite radio, "That's okay, Terry's sister made lasagna… and we had chocolate meringue pie for dessert, it was really good. She told me how she made it… I think I want to try it tomorrow night… for dinner."

"Sounds like a plan to me…"

We were silent for the remainder of the drive, even Nathan joining in on the quiet. As I made the final turn up our drive, Mattie instinctively reached for the inlaid button on the center console. As we approached the gates, they slowly retreated backwards, waiting to swing back after we passed through. It was an obvious security measure for a residence as vast as Wayne Manor, although our entrance was also outfitted with gates that looked like wrought iron but were in fact titanium.

And the facial recognition cameras, rubber bullet cannons and knockout gas vents didn't hurt either.

When Bruce and I had started taking our relationship seriously, seemingly a lifetime ago, I had perused the Manor to test the security systems. Where I had found it amusing, Bruce had found it anything but. Even with my level of skill, it was still a challenge to sneak onto the property let alone make my into the actual house. That wasn't to say it was impossible.

As I had found ways to overcome the countermeasures, Bruce had responded by increasing the security levels via the computer in the Cave. Each level I had defeated, he had upped the ante. On one particular evening, we had missed the opening of the renovated impressionist wing at the Met because I had been in a crawlspace, shimmying inch by inch to victory. Thankfully at that point, it had evolved into entertainment that we both had been able to enjoy.

That night in particular, I had ended up emerging in the laundry room vent, covered in dust and cobwebs but still with a smile on my face. I had found Bruce moments later in the den. Rather than shove my accomplishments in his face, I had opted to sit beside him and rest my feet in his lap. He had rewarded my efforts with a foot rub while I had commented that the home of Batman was as secure as the Pentagon.

"That's not entirely true," he had replied while gently easing away the tension in my left arch, "When the security system is on maximum, no one gets in, not friend or foe. And even on their best day, I've been in and out of any given military base more times than I want to admit."

"And what level was that, just now?"

"Fifteen…" he paused before leaning closer to me kissing just below my ear before adding, "Out of thirty."

Three weeks later, he had been in a coma, I thought he had been dead and Mattie had yet to make her existence known.

Pulling behind the garage, Mattie spotted our visitors' vehicles and looked to me, "Everyone came for dinner?"

"Well, almost… Barbara, Ethan and Leslie were a little late…"

As I pulled into the garage, Nathan chimed in, "So was Dad."

Pulling to a stop, I added, "Yes… Dad's nap ran a little long. But you saved him his plate from Dick, didn't you, kiddo?"

"Yep," he agreed while unbuckling and grabbing Ace's leash. It was an unnecessary act seeing how the dog had two years of training and would follow Nathan the end of the world before straying on his own.

I glanced at the dashboard display as it faded off, just to see the time hitting quarter of eight. "Nate, take him for a good walk, it's almost bedtime."

"Okay!" I heard his faded reply as he and the dog disappeared around the corner of the garage.

While waiting for their triumphant return, I grabbed my purse and stepped out of the car, watching Mattie latch on to her gift bag before doing the same. In the better lighting of the garage, I spotted her smudged lip gloss and her straightened hair slightly mused. Finding her in such a state would have made Bruce forget entirely about the last few days. It also would have resulted in the disappearance of a nearly fourteen year old boy named Terrance Miller.

Seeing how I was the one to find her in such a state, I only told her to go upstairs and change and that I would be up with Nate shortly. Although she nodded, Mattie replied with a question, "Is everyone here… about her?"

There was no point in lying to her, "Yes."

"How long is she staying?" Mattie pressed on.

A question I had no real response to save for, "I don't know… but not for long." I could tell from the look on her face that she had another inquiry brewing, but I cut her off by suggesting, "Better get a head start… you don't want Nate to pick out a movie for tonight, do you?"

"Another movie night?" she smirked.

"As long as you don't mind having us over. Or us bringing popcorn."

Mattie nodded, "Okay… at least Ace picks up the pieces that Nate drops on the couch."

Not two minutes after she left for the service entrance, Nathan and Ace reappeared, the former hitting the switch, yelping theatrically as he dove out of the path of the slowly descending garage door. Before stepping into the house, I watched my son remove Ace's leash, and then his own outerwear and shoes. Once inside, I hung up his jacket, then mine and watched as they trotted off and out of sight.

"Upstairs and get pajamas picked out, young man!" I called after him fruitlessly.

As I followed his echoing footsteps, I was surprised to see Alfred standing at the base of the main stairwell. I made no attempt to hide it and asked, "I thought you would be downstairs…"

"I have actually just come up, madam… Master Bruce instructed me to aide you in tending to the children."

"Getting you out of his hair."

"Not in so many words," he shook his head slightly.

"That would be Bruce…"

He informed me that Leslie had Ethan resting in their quarters and that Talia was still under lockdown. I had wanted to ask if she had been invited to their meeting of the minds, but thankfully he had diffused that worry instinctively.

In return, I said, "Well, I will handle the young children… which allows you to return to the older children… who need just as much supervision."

Alfred allowed himself a tiny smirk before replying, "Very well, Ms. Selina."

Once he was heading towards the study, I removed my Valentino pumps and proceeded to ascend the stairs. Reaching the third floor, I found Nathan and Ace playing fetch with a tennis ball in the corridor. Upon seeing me, my son threw the ball one last time before darting into his bedroom, the dog neglecting the toy in order to follow his master. Heading further down the hall, I spotted Mattie sitting on her bed, chatting on her cell phone while intently looking at her laptop's monitor.

Even with her attention already in high demand, Mattie still looked up at me and smiled, "How about the live action Jungle Book? With the guy from the Horse Whisperer."

"Sam Neill… and an excellent choice."

A record bath for Nate gave Mattie just enough time to run downstairs to make a bowl of popcorn for us to share and to grab an armful of cream soda bottles. For the second night in a row, I had to act oblivious to the happenings under my roof while spending time with my children. As much as I loved the adaptation of Rudyard Kipling's great story, Nathan trying to catch popcorn in his mouth with his eyes closed and having Mattie pointing out the different tiger actors that portrayed Sher Kahn, it still felt forced. That in itself made me feel guilty. They needed me more than the rest of the Family at the moment… but I had an innate curiosity that needed tending to as well.

The film's credits began rolling just before ten-thirty. I asked Mattie to take Ace out one last time while I carried her slumbering brother to his room. With his chin on my shoulder, he had mumbled something about Bagheera and I smiled before kissing his cheek. While tucking him in as gently as possible, I heard the dog's soft footfalls before seeing him trot in from the hallway. Under my gaze, he obediently reclined on his dog bed but I knew the second I left, he would take up his rightful place beside Nathan.

I kissed my son's brow before bending over and rubbing the German Shepherd's broad head. He let his ears drop to the side as he looked up at me, Ace's black eyes showing a miniature reflection of the night light near the bed. After giving him a scratch under the chin, he licked his lips and I whispered, "Good boy."

Passing by Mattie's room, I peered in and told her not to stay up too late. She nodded, grabbing Taffy's paw as the cat sat in her lap, waving it while talking for the feline, "Good night!"

Closing her bedroom door, I had the option to head down to the Cave to see how things were progressing. It had been looming over my thoughts throughout the entire movie and yet when the opportunity had presented itself, I found myself wanting to evade it. After I stood in the hallway for five minutes, equidistant from the master bedroom and the stairs, my answer presented itself.

The elevator door opened at the far end of the corridor, revealing Bruce's tired form. Walking towards him, and our joint destination, I offered him a slight smirk but he barely even looked up at me. He finally acknowledged me with a brief, solemn look, and that was only because I had reached for the knob on our bedroom door first.

"How did it go?" I asked, walking in after him.

"Not as expected," he replied, wasting no time in heading to the bathroom. I watched through the open doorway as he retrieved his evening meds and forced them down with a small glass of water. He then proceeded to let the sink run while he fetched a small wash cloth from the cabinet below.

When he didn't elaborate on his own, I approached him, leaning against the door frame as I inquired, "What happened?"

Bruce began slowly peeling back the soiled bandages from his hand, hesitating before putting the towel in the water. After he shut it off, he hesitated, grimaced, then pressed the cloth to his sore, aggravated fingers. He winced audibly and then replied, "Talia will go to the Watchtower after she has been thoroughly questioned."

"That's a good thing, isn't it?" I asked. He didn't reply verbally, but I could tell from the look on his face that it had not been his idea. Stepping into the bathroom, I pulled back the drawer that held the first aid supplies, retrieving clean gauze, antibiotic cream and medical tape. Setting the items on the counter, he still had not been able to form a response.

When he turned around to lean his lower back against the counter, I chose to stand in front of him. Unable to avoid my gaze, Bruce finally said, "It's not good. It's not bad… It just is."

I found myself saying, "Bruce… this is our home… this isn't a prison, or a witness protection refuge… You can't pretend that it is."

"I know," he replied in a soft voice, but his eyes were still ice. He finally looked back down at his hand removing the towel to reveal bright red fingers. I asked if it hurt and he shook his head, "No… it's fine."

Forty-eight hours earlier, he had been unconscious following a seizure and a fall down the Cave stairs.

Twenty four hours earlier, he had been ripping open the very same fingers in a state of panic.

Nothing was fine.

^V^

There had been no need to discuss the pros and cons of sending Talia to the Watchtower.

There was no purpose in the juvenile act of putting it to a vote.

Their minds had already been made up.

Tim had shown no hesitation in bringing up his doubts and concerns, all of which surrounded Talia's motives for coming to us for help after so many years. The little she had divulged in her day in our custody had been heavy on summation and low on fact. Granted, she very well could have been waiting for the opportune moment to escape the wrath of her father and Jason, but she had yet to truly explain the details of such.

The others had been quick to agree with his stance, stating worry for the Family as a whole given that she would eventually lure the attention of the League and possibly her father and fiancé. And rather than go through the ordeal we had already endured that year, it was best to get her as far away as possible. Alfred had brought up the fact that it was already having an impact on the children, something he wished to last for as short of a time as possible.

At that, Tim and Dick then agreed to have her out within forty-eight hours, once they were satisfied she had answered all of their questions truthfully and in full, using chemical substances if needed.

I had remained silent as they planned out the next two days, including the scheduling of eight hour shifts to monitor her. Tim had at least offered me to cover surveillance for evening shifts so that they could return to normal patrol work. I had agreed, but remained silent. In fact, the only time I had uttered anything was to excuse myself from the meeting I had called. The meeting that I had no control over.

Barbara had followed me to the elevator, also saying that she was going to head out to get Ethan home to bed. When we had become out of hearing range, she touched my hand, "Bruce, he's doing the right thing."

My response had been a quiet grunt.

The gentle fingers that were on my hand suddenly grasped them. When I looked down, her face did not match the angry grip. In fact, her soft eyes and slight pout had suggested she was sad. "Bruce… are you okay with this?"

"Does it matter?"

"It does. Whatever you're thinking, you need to say it."

I had no intention to be monotonous, but it came out as such, "Her going to the Watchtower is for the best. He's right."

"That's not what you're thinking." When I had remained silent, Barbara had continued, "I've known you for most of my life, Bruce… don't think for a second that you can fool me. Tim and Dick may be too distracted right now to see it, but I'm not."

Removing my hand from hers, I pressed the button for the elevator car to come down. As I waited, I gave her a half-hearted apology, followed by, "It's time he started making decisions… on his own… without looking to me. Even if it's a decision I don't agree with."

"Now tell him that," she had replied, pointing up to the others on the computer bay tier.

Thankfully, the car had arrived and as the doors retreated, I stepped in without a word.

I wasn't surprised when she had chosen not to join me.

Riding up to the third floor, I had done my best not to replay the brief meeting in the Cave, focusing more on the throbbing in my back, hand and leg instead. Save for my momentary appearance at dinner and catching Mattie at nine that morning, I had practically gone the entire day without seeing my children. While Selina and the others tried to fill the void in my wake, I had been immersed in the world of Ra's al Ghul. Voluntarily.

Alfred had been right, Talia had interrupted the lives of my children… taking me away from them.

As expected, when I had reached the third floor, Mattie and Nathan were already in bed, leaving Selina awaiting my arrival. I had barely looked up at her as she approached me, even after I had followed her into the master bedroom. I had done my best to offer weak responses to her questions, focusing more on getting pills down my throat and my hand tended to.

And then there were no more distractions to fall back on… save for Selina's green eyes.

There was no doubt she was reliving the previous night given that we were practically in the exact same places we had been standing in. Rather than my mental gyroscope going haywire, it looked as if hers was on the verge of doing the same. We had barely talked about what had happened and, deep down, I wanted it to stay that way. There was no point in discussing at any depth what had transpired as it had no bearing or impact on the matter.

A momentary lapse in self control, that was all that had happened.

One that had no promise of recurrence in the near future.

"Does it hurt?" I heard Selina ask.

"No," I shook my head as I dropped my eyes from hers, "It's fine."

She then offered, "I'll run a bath, if you want. Bet your back is killing you after today."

She was right. Sitting in the Cave the entire day, stressed and hunched and immobile, had caused the muscles of my back to grow tight and painful. Denying her was senseless as it did nothing to appease her, nor my body. When I looked back up at her worried face, I nodded, "Okay."

That brought a smile to her lips, however brief. She leaned forward to kiss my cheek and then turned around to adjust the tub faucet to her long since memorized calibrations. When she faced me, Selina said, "Mattie had a good time… Terry bought her this really nice ceramic horse… had it custom painted for her."

… _I don't want her meeting my children…_

"That's nice," I replied on instinct.

She proceeded to test the water collecting in the tub before reaching for the liquid soap residing on an in-wall shelf, "Figured we could have him over later this week for dinner… once things settle back down."

_...The way she looks at you… that's the way I look at you…_

"And fair warning, we watched The Jungle Book tonight after dinner… Nate should be portraying Mowgli for the remainder of the week."

About facing, I went about putting on fresh ointment and bandages and using additional tape to keep the sutured wound waterproof. Selina said something about what her plans for the Preserve were on Monday, but I only nodded in acknowledgment, eyes and focus still on my wounded fingers.

_...I was weak. Jason had just died, Tim had yet to come forward… I had no one…_

"Figured it will be nice for her to help out since they are her favorite leopards…" I heard her over the water.

"Right," I said, barely above a whisper.

_...Bruce, stop it, your hands…_

I didn't want to discuss what had happened the night before, didn't even want to think about it.

Unfortunate, considering that was all my mind seemed to be able to focus on.

Closing my eyes tightly, I waited until my temples grew hot before opening them. Looking into the mirror, I noticed that my pained reflection was not alone. Selina stood just to my right, her held tilted in a way that let a wave of dark hair to slip out from behind her ear. Once upon a time, she would have asked if I was okay.

After hearing the same response for nearly two decades, either she assumed what my answer was or she just didn't have it in her to ask.

Too many lies to too many people for too many years.

"Last night, I-."

She interrupted me, "Don't make yourself go through it again, Bruce." Selina stepped forward to wrap her arms around my torso, pressing herself into my aching back. Her warm presence should have been comforting, but I was at a loss as to why it hadn't been.

"No... not that…" I replied, shaking my head clear of the image of Jason's empty grave. "About Talia."

"What happened… happened, Bruce," she reached up on her tip toes to kiss the side of my neck before whispering into my ear, "We both had lives before… That doesn't change anything."

I told myself to shut up.

I didn't listen.

"Yes it does."

Selina did.

Still facing the mirror, I continued, "I told you last night that she loved me… that she had made me feel human…"

"I already know all of this, Bruce… you've told me, how her father tested you by kidnapping Dick… that he wanted you to sire his heir... I know."

I interrupted her with a quiet, "No… not all of it."

Something happened to her eyes, and justifiably so. Her reflection studied mine intently as I divulged information that was only kept in thoroughly encrypted files in the crays, to the point that even Oracle couldn't access or decipher them. Facts that I hadn't even shared with Alfred following my return to Gotham from my three months spent working alongside Ra's al Ghul. Three months sharing a bed with Talia… my bride.

When a tear slipped over her cheek, I turned to face Selina, "It was the only way that I could gain access to the information Ra's had on Qayin… he had practically raised the man when he had been a boy… he knew so much more than VICAP files would yield… It wasn't a marriage in a traditional sense… it was never meant to be permanent, and it wasn't…. when Qayin died, it was over."

There was a long, silent moment before Selina forced words through tense lips, "Last night, you said she loved you… did you love her?"

"I told you… she was there when I felt I was all alone… that everything was gone."

"Answer the question, Bruce," she lowered her brow, fighting back tears with an angry glare.

I had promised never to hide anything from her when I was struggling through the process of retiring from the cowl. I had renewed the vow shortly after Jim Gordon had died. And yet I kept doing it, trying to protect her by lying to her. It had only brought her pain, suffering and heart ache. My failure to uphold my promise was manifesting before my very eyes.

"I thought I was… but I didn't know how to… not then."

Her voice was painfully forced when she asked, "And now?"

"Of course not," I reached out to touch her cheek but she took a step back.

When she turned around to shut the water off, Selina replied, "All the more reason for her to leave." As she stood upright, I attempted to touch her arm but flinched before saying, "Don't."

The previous night, she was holding me in her arms, telling me that she loved me.

Telling her the truth had me exiled from my own bedroom.

And I hadn't even dared to chance divulging all of it...

Leaving her alone as she wished, I returned to the elevator and back down to the Cave. Dick was seated in the computer bay's chair, the Oracom link up and waiting for his wife to sign on. As I approached, I spotted the additional windows on the display being the surveillance footage of Talia's room, a breaking news report from Bludhaven along with the patrol logs from the night before. Patrols he had not been able to attend.

Carefully climbing up to the tier, Dick answered my unasked question, "Sniper in the Haven… Trey is the CO on scene… guy is perched on top of police headquarters… started popping off shots at cops leaving for the night, put three in the hospital already," he paused before adding, "Two in the morgue."

I took to standing beside the chair, eyes glued to the replay footage from earlier in the evening of police barricades, yellow tape flapping and ambulances rushing off screen. Unlike the shootout Dick had been involved with during his time with the BPD, the press had only managed to grab meaningless shots of officers talking and inanimate objects. Not bleeding cops begging for help, getaway vehicles riddled with bullets and one suspect becoming the victim of lethal force.

A lifetime ago.

We watched in silence as a news reporter tried to force a young male police officer to give her information while he corralled people behind the barricade. He repeated the facts and "No comment" like a broken record. Young, but he wasn't intimidated easily.

That was until he flinched when an assault rifle shot fired from up high, followed by a mass collection of screams from below.

Dick shook his head, "Guy's good. He has the door to the roof sealed shut, the fire escape rigged to blow… apparently he was there all day preparing under the guise of a repairman. Front desk was never the best at checking to make sure maintenance was actually scheduled. They tried to go in with the chopper overhead but he nearly took out their back rotor in three shots."

The closed access police scanner came to life, officers demanding to know who was hit, the air unit announcing they were going to come back with a new copter and asking to drop tear gas on the roof and lastly, a familiar voice that had once been Dick's partner.

"Negative, Air Control 2," Trey barked back, "I want to get the medics and wounded out of here before we do anything!"

More exchanges followed, including Air Control 2 reporting an unidentified aircraft passing by them as they were taking to the air, labeling it as a possible getaway air vehicle.

"You should go… they obviously need help."

Looking up at me, Dick replied, "They're going to get it…"

The blank Oracom screen suddenly filled with a grimacing face, partly obscured by a black cowl, "I need an update, Barbara's not online yet."

"Just fired another shot, no report on who was hit… BPD chopper is coming back to try again-."

Tim interrupted him, "Never mind. Plane's going on auto pilot, I'm dropping down in twenty seconds."

"Good luck," Dick offered before the connection was cut.

I waited alongside Dick in silence until reports started coming over both the news and the scanners that a man had taken a free fall from the roof, stopping just short of the pavement. As SWAT tentatively approached the swaying figure, they found him to be stripped of his body armor and bound head to toe in cable. In addition, he was begging for forgiveness.

At that point Barbara had come online, quickly getting caught up with what she had missed on the long drive back into the city. Tim also appeared on the screen, no worse for the wear and ready to get back to trade the jet for the Mobile. He announced the name of the sniper as Henry Rowlston, a dishonorably discharged Army Ranger that was denied entry into the BPD for failing his psychology examination. Barbara instantly went to work retrieving every scrap of information she could find.

It was only in that brief pause that Tim realized I was standing beside Dick, the grimace on the lower half of his face replaced with a look of surprise. While Barbara started listing off facts of the suspect, I found myself staring up at the computer's camera, returning Tim's gaze. With the cowl, it was difficult to see if it was regret, confusion or worry that was the basis of his facial expression.

Rather than stay for Tim's return to learn the truth behind it, I decided to retreat upstairs.

I had wanted to discuss and hopefully dissuade the plan they had put in place with Talia but decided it was not my role to do so. Instead, I stopped at the second floor and walked down to her room to make sure the locks were in place. I could have stepped into the next room to study her on the monitors, but chose not to.

Arriving once more on the third floor, I bypassed the closed door of the master bedroom. Stopping first at Mattie's room, I peered in to find her asleep, not surprised to find her laptop open on the bed to her left and Taffy sleeping to her right. I carefully stepped in, set the computer on her night stand and left after turning off the overhead lights.

Moving to Nathan's room, I opened the door and actually woke one of the beings in the bed. Ace lifted his head and stared at me briefly before jumping down and greeting me with a wagging tail. I patted his head, not surprised when he followed me step for step back to Nathan's side. I reclined slowly beside my son under the dog's watchful eye, turning over the pillow Ace had been using moments early. Content that his guard duty was relieved for the night, the dark dog reclined onto his bed and disappeared from my line of sight.

When I set my head down, Nathan stirred slightly, moving under his blankets before opening sleepy eyes, "Daddy?"

"Shh, tiger."

"Watched Jungle Book…" he whispered, "Mowgli… and King Louie."

I leaned forward and kissed his brow, "Mom told me."

He lost a battle to a drawn out yawn before moving in closer to me. Over the covers, I hugged him with my right arm, smirking when he asked me to rub his back.

"Just till I go to sleep," he added, eyes already closing.

I did. And long after.

^V^


	9. Come What May:  IX

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: There are two sides to every story.

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: Things should get fairly interesting from here on out… sorry for the cliffhanger-ness. And the 16,000 word count.

^V^

Sleep, that was what we all needed.

With Dick on Talia Duty at the Manor, I knew he wouldn't allow himself anything more than thirty minutes of resting his eyes. The unexpected ordeal in Bludhaven had delayed patrols, forcing Tim to stay out until nearly five in the morning. Cass had stayed out until he called it quits, making sure he entered logs as quickly as possible before corralling him home. Leslie and Alfred had the chance to enjoy slumber, but I doubted that either were able to rest easy.

Checking in on a still sleeping Ethan shortly before six in the morning, I hoped that at least the Wayne children were able to dream the night away.

Despite the trek to and from Wayne Manor the night before, I still had managed to tuck Ethan in by nine. After taking Frank for his last walk of the night, I had filled his toy Kong with a few small dog treats. With him lapping at his flat face and grunting with excitement, he had followed me down the hall without hesitation. Where I had taken refuge in front of the computer bay, he had opted to take his toy and settle into his down pillow by the window.

I had checked to see the scanners were relatively quiet and that Tim and Cass were hard at work touring the East End upon their return from the Haven. With no requests coming in from either one of them, I had sighed before attending to my other order of business. Namely, my maps and collected data for another rousing game of _Where in the World is Ra's al Ghul_?…

Without getting actual facts from Talia, it had still been just a guessing game. There had been only so much that I could decipher and determine from our records and satellite scans. After our meeting, Tim had blatantly said that he intended on giving Talia the next day to herself but would proceed with thorough questioning before patrols.

Including the possible use of chemicals to lower her inhibitions…

To my knowledge, none of Gotham's vigilantes have ever resorted to the most vile form of interrogation. Ninety-nine percent of the time, their ability to intimidate and terrify suspects or informants yielded a bounty of information, all of it truthful and viable. During our discussion earlier that evening, Tim had pointed out numerous times that Talia was not to be trusted. Add in the fact that she had known each member of the Family well enough to fool them if desired and the odds were already stacked in her favor.

When it came down to it, the only way to get the facts was to take away her defenses. Namely, her willpower.

Although I had verbally agreed with Tim, I had been unable to cast away the image of Huntress tied to a dental examination chair, the Joker's henchman torturing and drugging her for days. Sodium thiopental's effects could be prepared for with the right mental training and conditioning. It had been part of the rigorous training protocols Bruce had instituted, although long after I had been put in a wheelchair by a bullet.

Helena, who also had not under gone the training, had managed to hold her tongue and stayed loyal to the Family.

Talia was loyal only to herself.

When my display had read ten of four, my cell phone had chirped from the workstation counter. I had retrieved it by the third chime, smiling at the caller ID display. Warmly, I had greeted my late night caller, "Hello there."

"Tell me," Dick had replied, "What are you wearing?"

"Let's see… leggings that are still covered in little Ethan powdered sugar hand prints…"

"Oh yeah?" he had sighed dramatically, "Tell me more…"

Somehow, I had held a straight face while replying, "A blue cotton tee shirt... With sweaty armpits."

"Oh baby," he had moaned.

"And… I'm about to put on an aloe cream facial mask… and plug in my dehumidifier."

Dick had sighed heavily once more, then responded in a painfully over the top husky voice, "You know what I like." At that, I had lost it, letting the giggles escape me. Knowing he had won, Dick was only encouraged to continue, "Tell me more… more about these sweaty arm pits."

Allowing myself to laugh without restraint, I had sat back into my chair, "You are missing out, Boy Wonder."

He had finally snickered, then said, "Yeah… damn these nineteen miles that separate us." After he cleared his throat, he had proceeded with, "Well, I'm calling it a night. Talia has been on her best behavior, things are pretty quiet on the third floor…"

Fighting a yawn myself, I had commented, "You going to work tomorrow?"

Dick had contemplated before admitting, "Probably not until the afternoon. I'll come down on the seven oh-five train, figured that would get me to Tri-Corner a few light-years faster than trying to drive back."

"You are getting wise in your old age," I had remarked.

Continuing as if he hadn't heard me, Dick had said, "... and take Ethan for the morning so you can take care of those sweaty armpits of yours, wash off that facial mask.. make me breakfast... And get some sleep, of course."

"Gee, thanks…" and then after clearing my throat, "Do you think Tim is going to question her in the morning?"

Another pause, then, "I hope not. We all could use some sleep before going full steam ahead."

We had chatted for another ten minutes, trying to make plans for the week in terms of taking care of Ethan, what hours he had planned on working, who was free to go grocery shopping and of course dealing with the latest upheaval in the Family. Given that we had spent combined decades as vigilantes, it had been all too easy to accommodate our personal lives for our professional ones. The only personal part that was as important as the professional one was Ethan.

When Dick had hung up, I was left in silence once more. The baby monitor had been quiet, the scanners and Oracom links barely emitting anything of consequence… just Frank, me and my depleted energy reserves along with the soothing hum of electricity.

And yet I hadn't shut down the computers.

I hadn't signed off of the Oracom.

Not for a lack of desire.

With Tim and Cass and Dick all off of the grid by five-thirty, Ethan still slumbering away and Frank dreaming of chasing squirrels in Grant Park, I started my day without having ended the one that had preceded. After a hot shower, I finally applied the aloe face mask to help bring life back to my tired face. As it cooled my skin, I armed myself with the baby monitor and retreated to the kitchen, smiling to see the coffee machine was already preset with a fresh pot brewing.

Out of all of our wedding gifts, the Cuisinart coffee maker was the most treasured in the Gordon-Grayson household.

I poured a mug and sat beside the table, sipping quietly while sorting through the mail that I hadn't even given a second look since Friday. I opened a letter for Dick from the Bludhaven School District, smirking to see they wanted him as a guest speaker their career day event. My dedicated online bank account and bill management system reduced our mail to magazines and a limited number of personal items. Although sometimes I missed simple-sweet luxury of wasting time with junk mail sorting…

Coffee gone and baby monitor still silent, I washed my face off, dressed in a navy blue cardigan unbuttoned over a white shirt and black leggings. A quick comb though my hair later, I woke Frank up with the magic words, "Want to go for a walk?"

Given that he once clocked in up to five miles a day with my father, Frank had finally grown accustomed to going for much simpler walks. Whatever energy the French Bulldog may have found in abundance with less structured exercise, he expelled tenfold romping around with Ethan and going to work with Dick.

I had refused to let Cassandra keep him when she had lived in the Clocktower with me, not wanting another creature to clean up after.

Whenever I saw the flat faced canine sleeping next to my son on the floor, I couldn't imagine why I had ever shunned him.

Returning to the apartment, I poured his kibble and left him to devour it while I washed my hands and weighed how much ambition I was going to put into making breakfast. Even taking into consideration that Alfred would surely feed my husband before sending him on his way, I knew he wouldn't turn down a second breakfast. Ethan and I had shared eggs, yogurt and peaches for breakfast the day before, Dick's absence at the breakfast table blatant and saddening.

He always made faces while wiping Ethan clean after meals, eliciting giggles out of the toddler instead of whines.

"Soon," I said aloud to no one.

Even as drained as I was, I decided to make French Toast cut outs with cookie cutters. As I mixed batter and made pieces of raisin bread into triangles, circles and hearts, my cell phone rang as it sat beside the baby monitor on the far side of the table. Not wanting Ethan to wake any earlier than necessary, I quickly grabbed for it, answering on the second ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, it's me," Dick replied.

Holding the phone between my ear and shoulder, I returned to the kitchen table to finish prep work, "Hey, you're up early."

"Yeah," he yawned, "Tim came up after he entered his logs to chit-chat... And it looks like I'm going to drive into the city, after all… drop Leslie off so Alfred can stand guard… Then I'll be home… finally…"

I ran the whisk through the eggs and milk one last time before carrying the bowl to the stove top, "That's fine, Ethan is still sleeping, I'm just getting some breakfast going so it's ready for him. And you."

"I'm actually heading downstairs now to eat breakfast with everyone… But I'm sure by the time I suffer through commuter traffic I will be hungry again." I told him to call when he was close and that I would have something fresh waiting for him. Dick yawned and replied, "Thank you, wifey."

"Anytime, hubby."

Just as I was searching the fridge for a yogurt cup to split with Ethan, I heard him come to life on the baby monitor. Knowing Frank wouldn't dare risk his well being to steal food off of the table, I left our breakfast waiting and went to retrieve my son. After a fresh diaper, a clean tee shirt and big hug, Ethan had bypassed the whiny stage he endured in the first few minutes after waking up and started to smile and say "Mama."

While Ethan sat in his high chair, diligently ripping up bits of French toast before feeding them to himself, I cleaned up the kitchen, loaded the dish washer and finally joined him at the table. I laughed when he reached his sticky hand out to me, laughing when I leaned over to eat it out of his tiny fingers. He then dropped a piece so that Frank could join in on the taste testing.

Following breakfast, I tried to make the same funny faces to get Ethan to giggle while I wiped his face and hands, but it wasn't the same.

Letting him loose, he steadied himself on bare feet before setting his hands against the kitchen entrance's frame, "Dahie!"

"No Daddy, not yet," I looked down at him while pocketing my cell phone.

He promptly grunted, bounced on his feet and then walked carefully into the hallway, looking towards the bedrooms before crying out, "Dahie!"

"You want to sit up with me?" I asked, patting my lap in order to distract him. When he faced me, I bent over and helped him up, positioning him on my lap before moving towards the living room. Once we arrived, I turned the television on and wasn't surprised when he decided to slide down to the floor. When he toddled after a stuffed frog that was next to the end table, I heard my cell ring for the second time before eight in the morning.

I was equally surprised when the screen said it was Selina, not my husband trying to get in touch with me.

"Hey, what's up?" I asked, putting as much cheer into my tired voice as possible.

"Did I wake you?" Selina replied, not even bothering to alter her frustrated tone.

"No, truth be told, I haven't even gone to bed yet," I assured her, watching Ethan as he toddled to his feet and chased after Frank with frog in hand.

There was a quick one-two horn sound on the other end of the line, suggesting she was locking a vehicle up with a remote. When I asked what she was doing for the morning, she answered, "I parked on the street… couldn't pass up a spot right out front."

"Out front… of the Clocktower?" I asked, quickly moving towards the far windows of the living room. Sure enough, I spotted Selina down below just before she disappeared under an awning.

"Yeah…" she said, her voice sounding increasingly worried, "Be up in a minute."

She only dropped in unannounced for one reason. Anytime she and Bruce were at odds, Selina would seek me out to try and get a bearing on whether or not she was right or wrong. As her friend, I always explained that her anger would be justified as Bruce erred against her without thinking of the consequences. As his protégé, I then tried to make sure she saw his view on the situation as a means of trying to keep the peace.

Mentally preparing myself to do just that, I couldn't help but think to myself, _What have you done this time, Bruce…_

^V^

"All the more reason for her to leave…" I had said.

It wasn't like hadn't lied to me before.

"Don't," I had growled when Bruce had tried to touch me.

He had kept the truth from me for what he had presumed to be my own good before.

"Selina, I'm sorry, I-."

Even though I would have been more than grateful had he just told me the truth.

"You're sorry? For what?"

I would have welcomed it with open arms.

"I should have told you…"

But instead, he had been his typical self.

"Told me what, that you were married before? That I wasn't the first enemy you turned into a wife?"

He had kept his precious secrets.

"Selina-."

He had them buried beneath lie after lie.

"How could you? After everything I gave up for you… for us? And here we are, fifteen years later and you're still lying to me!"

He had brought tears to my eyes once more.

"I know, and I'm sorry… I was trying to protect-," he had tried to reach for my arm again as I had stomped out of the bathroom.

I had put my anger to use, spinning around to slash at his arm, sending it away from me, "Don't you even dare say it. What in the hell is that protecting me from? Not telling me that you were married before… How? Bruce, please, explain it to me!"

His brow had lowered for a moment before relaxing.

When he had no reply, I had pointed at him, my glare unwavering, "Exactly. It doesn't. It's the same bullshit excuse you've used a hundred times before… and I don't want to hear it again."

Bruce had remained silent, eyes avoiding my angered face, a solemn look taking over his.

"Until you decide that you're ready to stop doing this to me… I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth unless it is the god damned truth."

He had finally looked up at me, cold ice staring into red hot emeralds.

"Get out, Bruce."

He should have fought with me, growling and swearing.

Instead, he had nodded and left me with a bath that had been meant for two.

After standing alone in the middle of the bedroom for seemingly an eternity, I had crossed to the double doors and locked them. Returning to the bathroom, I had stood at the counter, avoiding my painful reflection while putting the medical supplies away and throwing the used wrappers in the garbage. I had gone about removing my jewelry and setting the bracelets and earrings in a small ceramic dish. Even though I had been tempted to take my wedding band and engagement ring off in order to throw them across the room, I had simply set them down on the bathroom counter.

Thirty minutes later, my skin was saturated from bath water but I had managed to cry myself dry.

The remainder of the night had been spent alternating between laying sleeplessly in bed and sitting on the couch by the bay windows, studying the cold night sky. I had expected Bruce to return at some point to try and talk things over but he hadn't. Although I had tried not to, I found myself thinking about where he was in the house… or possibly even the Cave.

If he had been formulating a way to make amends or if he was simply studying surveillance footage of the secure room.

My alarm had been set to six-thirty to allow time for a few hits of the snooze button. Originally, I had planned on dropping the kids off at school before heading up to the Preserve for the day to catch up on all I had missed from the previous week.

The second the alarm sounded, I had hit the cancel button.

I should have pinned my hair up and donned insulated jeans, a wool sweater and my down vest to prepare for a day in the office and touring the habitat. Instead, I rose from the bed and bypassed the walk-in closet. Still in my sweat pants and a grey three-quarter sleeve shirt, I had slipped on a pair of fleece lined moccasins and headed for the double doors. Unlocking them, I had then proceeded into the silent corridor, setting my sights on Mattie's room. Knowing she would take less to time to wake and more time to get ready, I rapped softly before opening the door.

She had already been up, making her bed while trying to get Taffy out from under the comforter. When my daughter had looked over at me, she had smirked "Morning."

"Early morning, thought you would still be sleeping," I had put a smile on my face while stepping into the bedroom.

"Nah, I wanted to straighten my hair today… so early bird-hood it is," she had replied before walking over and giving me a hug.

I had kissed the top of her mused hair before she had released me. As she returned to adjusting pillows, I had offered, "Well, I'm going to see if I can get your brother moving… meet you downstairs for breakfast, kiddo."

"Kay, Mom."

Stepping back into the corridor, I had then proceeded to Nathan's door, opening it without knocking and stepping in without looking.

I had wondered where Bruce had gone to during the night.

My answer lay snoring beside our son.

Bruce, still wearing the clothes had had the day before, was laying on top of the covers. As it was more comfortable following his fall to the Joker, he had been sleeping flat on his back, his left leg slightly propped up by a pillow. A cursory glance had me locating his hearing aides on the night stand beside him along with his wrist watch and wallet.

Also lost in slumber had been Nathan. Partially under his blankets, he had stretched his arm to rest on Bruce's torso, his peaceful face nestled next to his father's as they shared a pillow. On the queen sized bed. Walking towards them, I spotted Bruce's left arm had come to rest underneath Nathan's neck, loosely guarding our child's back.

Where they had remained unconscious, Ace rose from his dog bed and stretched before walking over to nuzzle my leg. As I had acknowledged him with a pet on his scruff, I had leaned over and touched Nathan's shoulder. When that hadn't stirred him, I proceeded to speak softly, "Time to wake up, Nate."

"Mmmm," he had shook his head before opening his blue eyes, "Mom?"

Once more, I had faked a smile while waking one of my children, "Come on, sleepy head… We still need to pack lunches."

He had sat up slowly, letting himself yawn long and loud. After rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands, he had looked over at his motionless father, then back at me, "Can I wake up Dad?"

I had replied, the latter being a blatant lie, "No, let him sleep in… I'll wake him up after we go to school."

Nathan had regarded his father once more before pushing the covers off of his legs, "Okay."

To be sure my son did not wake Bruce, I stayed and supervised as he brushed his teeth, washed up and dressed in near silence. Backpack, his dog, jacket and wool hat in tow, I had ushered him out of the room, shutting the door quietly behind us. Reaching the ground floor, I had told Nathan to take Ace out for a walk and that myself and his back pack would wait for him in the kitchen.

As expected, Alfred had been hard at work. The island counter yielded a basket of still warm pumpkin muffins, serving plates of a chicken sausage, potato and mushroom hash, fluffy scrambled eggs and his infamous baked oatmeal. Despite the bounty, I had not seen any sign of Alfred, his apron hanging on its hook. Bypassing the food, I had checked the nook to find it set for eight people, a carafe of orange juice and coffee waiting on standby.

It was when I turned back to the kitchen that he had caught me off guard, seemingly appearing from nowhere. The surprise that had taken hold of me had caused him to apologize, "Oh, forgive me, madam, I had no intention to startle you."

"It's okay," I had replied while he took to standing by the island counter, "I figured it wouldn't hurt to get a jump start."

He had smiled genuinely, "Truer words, my dear. Have the children risen yet?"

I had nodded while approaching him, "Nate just took Ace out, Mattie's upstairs getting ready."

"Very good… Master Dick is also readying himself. He has offered to take Leslie into the city… if you wish, no doubt he would be willing to take the children to school."

Shaking my head, I had said, "That's all right… I have to head out this morning any way, might as well take them on my way north."

"To the Preserve?" he inquired.

"Yeah, my desk is probably buried after last week…" I had been cut off by Tim and Cassandra entering the kitchen, both freshly showered. He had opted to dress for the day in dark jeans and a fitted turtleneck where Cassandra had opted for black leggings and a grey hooded sweatshirt. Even though they both had been up and working all night, they still looked more refreshed than I had.

Tim had been the first to say, "Morning."

"Is it a good one?" I had found myself asking.

"So far," he had replied before looking to Alfred, "Sorry for crashing unannounced, Al."

Alfred hadn't hesitated in saying "No apologies necessary… I believe you arrived not long after I woke this morning."

As Cassandra took to sitting on a stool while browsing the spread, Tim had approached us, "Probably. It certainly wasn't an early night."

Before I could have inquired about what had gone down in Gotham, the service entrance door opened and closed, followed quickly by Nathan and Ace entering the kitchen. I had watched silently as my son greeted both Tim and Cass with surprised looks, followed by asking if they had slept over again.

Tim had replied, "Nope, just decided to walk over for breakfast."

Nathan had looked to me, then Alfred and finally at all of the food that was waiting before responding, "Good thing Alfred made extra."

Just as we had the day before lunch, we had sat down as a near complete family at the nook's table. Dick and Mattie had joined us shortly, followed by Leslie who had opted to share a quick breakfast with Alfred in the kitchen. And just like the day before, Bruce had not made an appearance.

Despite the fact that I had made certain that my children were presentable, I had made no effort to alter my appearance before leaving the house. After dropping them off and promising to pick them up after school, I had started back through Bristol towards the Manor. Instead of turning off on the county road that led home, I had continued straight.

The last time I had sought out Barbara's consult had been when Bruce discovered that Mattie was on Ortho Tricyclen without his permission. I had been furious with Bruce for his over-the-top reaction and his demanding that I had gone behind his back intentionally. The tables had turned but Barbara was still the one that I needed to see.

Sitting in her living room, with her son on my lap, with her eyes on me, I managed to hold back tears and keep my voice steady as I replayed the previous night, practically word for word.

After a deep breath, I continued, "I know that you were a part of the Family before me… I understand if your loyalties defer to him… but… I would imagine after all of these years that someone…" I paused to help Ethan down to the floor, " That someone would have had the decency to tell me."

"Selina, I swear to you… I had no idea."

Seeing the sincerity in her eyes, I found myself sighing before responding, "I believe you… I just.. I don't know if I can believe him anymore…"

"He-."

I cut her off, "No. We've been together this long and he is still keeping secrets… Bruce not telling me about giving up the cowl, about having cluster headaches… I could forgive him of that… I could see why he thought it was the right thing to do… but this? I can't."

She looked as if she were uncertain as to how to respond, remaining silent for nearly a minute. It was then that she spoke, "I've looked at every file we have on Ra's and Talia in the Crays… but there were some that I couldn't access.

"I know. I found the same ones after he told me about the transmission… everything was double password protected, encrypted, biometric verified…"

"Right," she said softly.

"I figured it was just details about Ra's and the protocols he stole or something else… but now I know it has to be about this, that there's more to it… why else would he keep everything under that level of security?"

The most I had asked her in a long time was to take the kids for Thanksgiving.

After asking her something I had never dreamed of having to, I added, "I need you to do this… I need to know what else he isn't telling me."

^V^

After delivering Talia's breakfast and leaving babysitting detail for Cass and Tim to maintain, Leslie and I left just after seven in the morning. En route, I dropped by a family bakery in Bristol and picked up breakfast for the staff and any of the early morning patients of the Free Clinic. Boxes of scones, croissants, bagels, muffins along with a bag filled with all of the necessary jams, butters and cream cheeses dominated the back seat. I also grabbed a large coffee for myself and a hot cider for my co-pilot.

Despite the amicable start, we barely shared more than a dozen words on the ride. Mostly, it was about how Ethan was starting to say the funniest things in his toddler language. Anything to keep our thoughts light and happy.

"Thanks for watching him last night," I said

"My pleasure," she replied, "I felt bad that he ended up falling asleep before Barbara headed out… no doubt it was difficult to get him to bed when they got home."

Battling my way into a right hand lane on the Westward Bridge, I offered, "No worries, I called her last night, she said that he babbled the whole ride home and passed out the second he was in his crib. I like to think he's finally taking after me."

I caught her smirking out of the corner of my eye.

She didn't say another word until were passing into the East End, "How was Bruce, last night? I didn't see much of him..."

Clearing my throat, I paused at a red light and tried to buy time by adjusting the climate control buttons on the dash of the Range Rover. When I could physically feel her blue eyes staring at me, I finally said, "Okay… Certainly better than Saturday night. More composed, more grumpy… more like himself."

Marginally, I thought to myself.

"I'm worried about him," she sighed, her eyes drifting away from me as I accelerated when the light turned, "How he pushed himself last week and now this ordeal…"

"We're all worried," I said softly, "Except for him, of course."

When I turned onto Franklin Avenue, I caught her shaking her head, "Damn him…" and then after a moment, "I'm sorry…"

"Don't be… A lot going on right now… we'll get things sorted out then we'll ship her into outer space."

Shifting in the passenger seat, she replied, "Alfred mentioned that last night."

I yawned, then added, "Sooner the better. I'm getting a little tired of playing babysitter."

"Well, I hope you plan on getting some rest today," she said.

"Actually, I was planning on taking it easy this morning since Tim and Cass are going to hold down the fort. And after I drop you off, I'm going to let Babs get some sleep so I can get my daily dose of Ethan," I gestured to the front of my shirt, "This should be covered with teething drool and bits of bananas within the hour."

"Naturally," Leslie smirked.

"And after that, I plan on sleeping through a few episodes of Dora the Explorer, go to work at least long enough to clear off a square inch of my desk and then home in time to ask Babs what's for dinner."

That made her smile. Then again, anything that pertained to members of the Family having normal life experiences often did. Christmas mornings, birthday dinners, school events always seemed to brighten her and Alfred's lives. It was when the dark part of our lives seeped into the light that it made something tragic happen to her generous grey eyes and made Alfred's strong shoulders slump ever so slightly.

Turning the topic back to Ethan, we made it to the Free Clinic without incident. After parking, I stepped out of the car to carry the bags of breakfast in. Leslie led the way through the back entrance, one I had rarely passed through during the daylight hours. Instead of heading to the break room, Leslie ushered me to reception where it was already filling with patients. She directed me to set up the boxes of assorted pastries on table in the lobby area that had pamphlets about vaccinations, contraceptives and the benefits of eating fiber.

Leslie then graciously announced to everyone that I had bought breakfast and they were welcome to dig in.

I stayed long enough to be on the receiving end of several _thank you's from_ parents and powdered sugar coated smiles from their children, and to score a few treats for Barbara and Ethan. I finally excused myself when Leslie did, giving everyone a wave and warm wishes. A stride behind her, I followed Leslie to her office as she instinctively donned her stethoscope and ID tag, leaving me standing just outside of the small, cluttered room. Before making my way to the back exit, I offered to pick her up for the return ride home at the end of the day.

She replied, "Oh, there's no need to make a special trip just for me, Dick."

Given the empty corridor, I replied, "It's no problem, I have to head back out there anyway. We're going to try and get things taken care of tonight…"

Leaning against her desk, Leslie nodded, "The sooner the better, indeed."

The serious look on her voice drew a serious tone over my voice, "When she's gone, we'll be safe."

When Leslie looked up at me, she replied, "I hope so."

A year earlier, she had left Gotham to put her skills to work in Africa at a Doctors Without Borders facility, no longer able to watch Bruce and his protégés put themselves in harm's way while using violence to combat evil. She had even convinced Alfred, with some heavy prodding and Bruce practically kicking him out of the Manor, to join her. Their time away saving lives and making an incalculable difference had no doubt been the happiest time they had shared in their entire lives.

And yet there they were, right back in the thick of it.

Before I could turn to leave, I heard the soft fall of worn sneakers and a familiar voice, "Leslie, you need to keep me back here, I will eat every cruller out… Oh, hi there."

Dana Bryce smiled broadly at me, her baby blue smocks pristine but her hair and tired eyes suggested she had been at the clinic all night. I hadn't seen her since the banquet we had held for DJG Security at the end of August. She and her husband had gladly attended and spoke kindly of our efforts to the press covering the event. Nothing like having the District Attorney saying his house was safer because of our security system.

"Thank you for breakfast," she said, "It was delicious."

"Anytime… I saved myself some goodies to take home," I shook the white bag in my hand, "But I figured I didn't need to eat the rest." I looked to Leslie, then the candy dish on her desk, "Can I have a lollipop before I go?"

She smirked and said, "Only one."

I may have put it there, but at least I was still able to wash away the sad look on her face.

Even knowing Barbara had already made breakfast for herself and Ethan, I knew the two Boston Cream doughnuts would be more than welcome. After her long night, the treat would be a small peace offering for her having to once again wrangle our son solo. But for the last time, I hoped. Bruce had initially volunteered to cover the evening watches but of all of us, he needed his rest the most.

As Leslie said, he was pushing himself already, even before Talia made an appearance.

Hopefully with her under the lock and key in the Watchtower, we'd all be able to get a good night's rest.

Bakery and overnight bags in tow, I rode the elevator up to our apartment, quarreling with the sudden need for sleep. My accumulated few hours over the last two days had been fitful, eyes drifting to the bedside monitors that kept track of Talia as she slept peacefully. Standing still, watching the numbers increase on the elevator's display and the hum of electricity had me yawning by the time I reached our floor.

In order to wake myself up, I decided that my son didn't need a Boston Cream doughnut, eating it in three bites while going about unlocking the front door. Stepping into the atrium, suspicion arose almost immediately at the presence of a dark wool jacket hanging from the coat rack. That, combined with the hushed voices and considerable lack of toddler antics, had me calling out, "Babs?"

"In here, Dick," she replied from the den.

Kicking my shoes off and shedding my coat, I traveled down the corridor with near silent footsteps on the hardwood floor. Turning into the open living area, I first spotted my son in the midst of a Wonder Pets catatonic state, propping his head up on Frank in order to better see the television from the floor. With that being perfectly normal, I then directed my focus to that which was completely abnormal, namely Barbara sitting on the couch with a very upset Selina.

"Sorry, I only brought a doughnut for Barbara," I said, shaking the little white bag in my right hand.

Selina shook her head, making her lips form into a painful smile.

Ethan leapt to his feet at the sound of my voice, toddling over while calling out, "Dahie, Dahie!" I hefted him up into my arms, hugging and kissing him before taking a seat on one of the over stuffed leather recliners, pivoting it to face them. I let him sit on my lap, bouncing as he giggled and cried out my name. As exciting as my arrival was, the wonder of it quickly gave way as Linny the Guinea Pig, Tuck the Turtle and Ming-Ming the Duckling came back on screen.

"What's going on?" I asked as he slipped down to the floor and proceeded to lean against the coffee table, eyes on the Wonder Pets as they prepared for action.

With Ethan's mind elsewhere, Barbara showed no hesitation in responding, only lowering her voice slightly as to not distract him. "We need to ask you a question… and to answer it honestly."

"Will signed me up for Playboy… I just keep forgetting to cancel the subscription," I offered the light joke to ease the overwhelming tension. With both of them staring daggers at me, I nodded, "Sorry… coping mechanism. What's the question?"

Barbara looked to Selina.

Selina nodded, looked to me, then asked, "Did you know that Bruce and Talia were married once?"

If my hushed _What_? hadn't been enough of a response, the fact that my jaw was nearly on the floor would have been an adequate supplement.

I listened in stunned silence as Selina replayed her previous evening of feuding with Bruce. When Bruce had made his confession, I had been watching his former bride on the monitor of the computer bay. While they had been screaming at one another, I had been perusing the small fridge under the workstation counter for an orange soda. And as I had been chatting with Wally on the link to the Watchtower, Selina had ordered Bruce out of her sight for the foreseeable future.

"I can't believe it…" I finally managed.

"Believe it," Selina sighed as she reclined into the couch, rubbing her eyes with the heels of her palms.

We silently watched Ethan returned to his dog's side, kissing his toy frog before putting it up to Frank's face, forcing him to do the same. Despite the fact that this was honestly the first time I was able to be with my son in nearly two days, my mind was not on how cute he could be but on just how stupid his grandfather was.

When the pause had reached an awkward length, Barbara sighed, "I don't know what's worse… the fact that he lied about it… or that he even did it at all."

Shaking her head, Selina replied, "Both."

Knowing that looking at the problem at hand from a personal perspective would only lead to more trouble, I tried to focus on it from a more professional point of view. A skill Bruce had taught me at a young age in order to make the right move in life-threatening situations. Where I put it to practice every night I donned the black and blue, I was able to shed the line of thought when the Kevlar came off. Regrettably, Bruce had never been able to do the same, before, during and after he had worn the cowl.

Something I had grown up with, something that I knew was second nature for him.

Barbara pointed out, "There are files dated around that time that are completely blocked. I tried to get into them over the summer and only managed to access information pertaining to Bruce investigating a terrorist and the subsequent death of said terrorist."

"Qayin," Selina offered in a hushed voice.

I had seen the files Barbara had mentioned years ago, or at least the parts I had been able to access. At the time, I hadn't thought much of Bruce securing information to that extent. He had dozens of files that were blocked off to the rest of us, keeping his dark secrets locked away, out of sight and mind. There were logs regarding the loss to Bane, Bruce serving time in Blackgate and dozens on the Joker that no one could get into.

Somehow, it felt different.

Looking to Selina as she stared absently at my son, I asked, "Who else knows?"

I thought she hadn't heard me but when I repeated myself, Selina replied, "I heard you… and right now it's just the three of us… as far as I know."

"Well, we can catch everyone else to speed tonight," I suggested.

Barbara responded with, "I'm going to give those files another go today… that and Tim wanted me to prep the interactive maps for when he questions Talia."

Hearing her name caused Selina's brow to tighten.

"Have you talked to him, since last night?" I heard Barbara ask.

Selina shook her head, "No… I made myself clear as to what I wanted." She glanced at me, "It was the last straw. He needs to come clean."

"Or else?" I responded, "From the sounds of it, he was trying to. He volunteered the information-."

She glared at me, "Are you taking his side?"

"Whoa," I raised my hands up in front of me, "I'm just saying that maybe he was trying to do the right thing… maybe he'll answer whatever questions we- you have."

"I shouldn't have to ask him, I shouldn't have to interrogate him!" she snapped at me, "He should have told me!"

I remembered all too well what she was capable of when she was angry, even without her clawed gloves and cat-o-nine tails.

Thankfully, Barbara spoke up, convincing her that we agreed with her, that Bruce should have told her. That we were going to get to the bottom of things and finally get the truth. As Selina sat back down next to Barbara, I realized that I was wrong.

She wasn't angry. She was hurt. Betrayed.

I'd felt the same way earlier in the year, listening to him blame me for Huntress' death and risking the safety of the Family. Although instead of sticking to a verbal argument, my confrontation with Bruce had gone the physical route.

And given his physical disadvantages, if push came to shove, I would put my money on Selina.

^V^

Before Dick left for the morning, I caught him in the service entrance and asked him if he planned on going in to the Firm.

Donning his wool coat, he shrugged, "Tim, I honestly want to… At least to touch base with Will… try and get some calls returned…" and with a smile he added, "Would suck to get all of this new business and ignore the paying customers."

"Right…"

"What about you?" he asked.

There was no uncertainty in my response, "No… I want to finish up patrol logs, do some follow-up on the sniper… and talk to Bruce. I don't like how we ended things last night."

"Well," he adjusted the lapels of his coat, "You can probably get all of that done before he even thinks about waking up."

"Probably."

Dick then said he would be back around six that evening and if I needed him sooner to let him know. I said for him not to worry, to go home to his wife and son. As Leslie approached, he yawned, "And my pillow… my sweet, glorious pillow…"

I waited for the door to close behind them before returning to the kitchen. Alfred had already busied himself with tending to the breakfast dishes and Selina was unearthing the kids' insulated lunch bags from the refrigerator. She looked as if she hadn't slept a wink and I wanted to ask if Bruce was okay, if he had suffered another poor spell leaving her to watch over him all night. Somehow, I convinced my dark thoughts to mind their business and instead asked, "PB and J?"

Selina smirked, "Ham and cheese."

"Want me to take them in for you?" I offered.

She shook her head, responding in a tone that seemed a bit off, "That's okay. I promised them I would."

"Okay," I nodded, still keeping myself from prying.

Nathan appeared in the corridor on the far side of the kitchen, telling the dog that followed his every step that he would be right back after school. Selina called out for him to get his hat and jacket on and she would be right back after going to check on Mattie's whereabouts. I watched on as he did as he was told, dramatically pulling his hat on too low so that it covered his face. When he caught me laughing, Nathan peeled it back to reveal his smirk.

Dog in tow, Nathan approached me as I stood beside the kitchen counter. When he reached for his lunch, I asked, "Ready to go back to school?"

He shrugged, "I guess… Kinda wanted to sleep in… It's not fair that Dad gets to."

"Well he probably went to bed much later than you, young sir," Alfred noted as he turned the water off and proceeded to dry his hands.

Nathan shook his head as he tried to fit his lunch bag into his back pack, "Nuh-uh, Dad came in and slept in my room, right after I went to bed."

"He did?" I asked.

Fighting to zip his bag back up, Nathan looked up at us, "Yeah, he's still up there."

Before I could ask about it any further, I heard Selina and Mattie approaching. I leaned over and helped Nathan close up his bag and then held it for him as he slipped on the shoulder straps. "Have fun, wild child."

"I will," he grinned, then told Ace to stay before heading towards his mother and sister.

Although the dog reclined to the tiled floor, he alternated between looking to where his master had gone and up at me before deciding to set his head down on his paws. The sigh he emitted had me wondering if it would be a good idea to head next door and grab Robbie for a canine play date. I was still thinking about it when Alfred cleared his throat.

"Sorry?" I said, turning to face him.

"I inquired as to where Ms. Cassandra was, sir."

"Ah, she went upstairs to do surveillance. Hopefully, I can convince her to get some sleep." He nodded but had no reply. After a beat, I asked, "Does he do that often?"

"What, sir?"

"Sleep with Nathan?"

There was a a brief hesitation before he answered, "To my knowledge, only when the boy is infirm or ill."

"Didn't seem infirm or ill to me."

"No, sir, he did not."

It was my turn to pause, "… Selina didn't seem too happy this morning."

He was far too quick to respond, "Ms. Selina has never been fond of early mornings."

"Especially when she doesn't sleep the night before, no doubt…"

Even with me staring directly at him, Alfred didn't falter. He was going to make me come right out and ask…

"You left right after he did last night… What happened? After he came upstairs?"

"Sir, it is not my place to meddle in-."

I cut him off, "Alfred… please. Not now."

His eyes fell to this hands as they tightly twisted the dark blue hand towel. Upon straightening it, folding it and setting it carefully on the marble counter top, he found the will to look back up at me. "I may have gone to the third floor to make sure that the family was settled for the night…"

"And?" I pressed him.

"I may have… overheard an argument."

"About what?" I asked, almost too desperately.

He shook his head, "Of that, I am not certain… Ms. Selina seemed to be very upset with Master Bruce… upset enough to order him out of their quarters." When I didn't reply, he added, "Thankfully, by the time he did so, I made it to the elevator as to take my leave."

Setting my forearms against the cold counter top, I exhaled slowly. After a moment of consideration, I bore my weight on my elbows in order to rest my face in my palms.

Having known both of them for two decades, it wasn't surprising to hear that they were fighting, especially with yet another ordeal striking at the Family. However, since Bruce had come home from the hospital at the beginning of the summer, Selina had been nothing but supportive of her husband, doing her best to help him cope with his ailments. In fact, it was her devotion to him that brought him out of the depression he had tried to suffer in silence, unable to accept the damage to his leg and his brain.

She had been there for him all summer, all year… practically their entire adult lives and yet when he needed her most, she was banishing him.

"When does he get up in the morning?" I found myself asking.

"Not until after eight most days, depending on when he is due in the city. This morning, I had intended to let him sleep until noon if need be…. Shall I wake him for you, sir?"

Standing up right, I shook my head, "No, no… It can wait."

Alfred studied me for a moment before speaking, "And what do you intend to do while waiting, sir?"

Knowing his intentions were to get me to sleep, I appeased him, "Might as well get some rest myself."

"You grow wiser with each passing year, Master Tim," he smirked before excusing himself.

Leaving the kitchen as well, I climbed two sets of stairs to get to the room Cass and I were temporarily using as our own. Although she was reclined on the bed, she was wide awake. Crossing the room, I spotted that Kitten was beside her, playfully attacking her fingers as she traced them over the bedspread.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, I spoke softly, "I'm going to run next door, take care of Robbie… probably will just bring him back over here for the day."

"Okay," Cass responded, "Makes sense."

"Need anything?" When she shook her head, I reached over and roughed up Kitten's scruff, instigating him to spin around and bat at my hand with his paw. "Looks like you're finally calming down, you little terror."

"He's fine… as long as you don't pick on him, he won't pick on you," she defended him.

When the cat returned his attention to playing with Cass, my eyes drifted to the monitor on the bedside table. Talia was sitting cross-legged on the floor, not two yards from the bay window. She had pulled the drapes back to reveal the reinforced bay window, revealing the bright November morning. It appeared as if she was meditating, truly at peace with herself.

Enjoy it while it lasts, I mused to myself.

Leaving Cass, I returned to the ground floor and opted to make the walk next door on the surface of the Earth as opposed to beneath it. Even though the sun was shining, the air hovered around freezing and left my breath escaping in puffy white clouds. I walked briskly for the first half of a mile, quickly opting to finish the second in a light jog, navigating up the drive and towards the side entrance.

I heard Robbie long before I reached the door, whining, grunting and toenails clicking o tile. Unlocking and opening it, I grinned at him and patted my chest, encouraging him to jump up and put his paws on me. "Good morning, buddy," I said while dodging his kisses, "Let's go outside."

He bolted out the door and instinctively raced around to the back yard, snorting and sneezing as cold air filled his stunted nose. After tending to urgent business, he proceeded to romp about the back yard, only the sound of his paws crunching dried leaves breaking the cold silence. I had to call for him twice before the big Boxer returned, his tongue lolling and energy spent.

While he ate his breakfast, I sat down on the couch and turned the morning news on, greeted instantly by reports of the shooter in Bludhaven. I changed the channel until the TV yielded better entertainment, an infomercial for a meatloaf pan. Given that I had spent a good part of the previous night and would dedicate a chunk of the day to evaluating the incident, in the few moments I had to relax I wanted it as far from my mind as possible.

Reclining onto the over stuffed couch, I smirked as Robbie trotted into the room and jumped up to sit beside me.

"Wake me up in an hour, pal," I sighed as he settled to lay between my legs, resting his head on my left knee.

I needed to sleep. I didn't have time to but I had no other choice. Running full throttle on empty was something I could handle. Doing so and being able to keep a clear head to out think the daughter of Ra's Al Ghul was another story. If I was able to get at least some solid information from her without too much trouble, I had no intention of resorting to extreme measures.

A big _if_.

Sodium pentothal and sodium amytal where two most common pharmaceuticals used in the class of questioning that was deemed borderline torture. Given that they were both barbiturates, they both combined the effects of sedation and hypnosis, a result from the active component barbituric acid. Like other drugs of that family, including the medication Bruce relied on to function on a normal level, they were categorized to by potency but how long their effects were felt. Ultra short-acting barbiturates were used mainly as an anesthetic given that the subject would metabolize the drug and the effects would fade shortly after initial administration.

The Phenobarbital that Bruce was on was a long-acting barbiturate, the class that took the longest to cleanse itself from the bloodstream and often proved to be the most addictive.

Sodium pentothal worked by slowing the heart rate, lowering blood pressure as well as depressing the activity in the central nervous system. Since it acted quickly as a sedative, sodium pentothal was highly used a general anesthetic for short procedures, nerve blocking along with pre-operative anesthesia. Its counterpart, sodium amytal, was mainly a depressant, working more effectively as a hypnotic and anti convulsive. Combined and in the right fashion, it was capable of keeping an individual placid, relaxed and more apt to simply offer truthful answers to questions instead of fabricating lies.

The use of the so-called truth serum was unreliable at best. Yes, it lowered a subject's ability to control complicated thought processes, such as lying, but it was still possible to lie under the drug's effects. I had experienced it during my early years of training, feeling only as if I were drunk as opposed being tricked into telling the truth. In fact, it had been easier to maintain my composure doped up than in any of the mock interrogations-turned-tortures Bruce had taught me to endure.

That I had been teaching to his daughter...

I kept thinking that Talia wanted our protection, that she would be willing to help in any way she could. I also kept reminding myself that she was Talia… and Talia lied.

My nap was fitful at best, pocked with foggy dreams of empty coffins. Robbie did not wake me up at nine, but rather a little before ten as he barked at a squirrel that was perched on the bird feeder outside. After telling him to be quiet, I rose to my feet, stretched my back and arms. As he continued to harass the bushy tailed critter on the other side of the window, I went into the kitchen, grabbed his leash and collar, then distracted him by saying, "Want to go for a walk?"

That was all he needed to hear, leaving him bounding after me as I tracked once more to the side door. Once collared, he did his best to heel as he was taught, all too tempted to run around to the squirrel to bark at him once more. A tug on the leather lead and he decided it best to stay the course.

Reaching the Manor, I let him loose once inside, leaving his collar on as to be able to hear his tags jingle as a means of locating him. Ace, who had relocated from the kitchen to the hallway outside of it, jumped up at the sight of his canine companion. They proceeded to go through the customary sniffing and grunting routine before deciding they remembered who each other was and where the hierarchy left them. Had Frank been present, it would have been Ace, Frank and then at the bottom, Robbie.

Letting them chase one another down the hall, I followed and did my best to lure them into the informal den. There, I found a large toy rope and encouraged the two dogs into playing tug-of-war with one another. I watched their efforts slowly ebb as they tired, eventually leaving Robbie to yield when Ace accidentally grabbed a hold of the rope along with the Boxer's upper lip. Tongues lapping, they both found places on the floor to collapse on, the slobber-coated rope left unattended between them.

I was about to get up to find them a bowl of water when I heard Bruce's voice, "Tim?"

Turning around, I spotted him standing in the doorway, wearing a navy blue sweater and dark gray slacks. His barely dry gray hair and slightly flushed skin suggested he was fresh from the shower, looking ready to face the day. He also looked surprised to see me.

Standing, I slowly walked over to him, telling him that I didn't like how things had ended the night before with his leaving the Cave. I said I wanted him to be there to help question Talia, that this was just as much his work as mine. I even went as far as saying we didn't need to drug her if she was willing, if he thought we could get the truth out of her by simply asking.

He was silent for far too long before replying, "Don't second guess yourself on my behalf."

"Bruce, I'm not saying-."

"Do what you have to, Tim," he stared at me as he spoke, "You have doubts, sate them. You have concerns, ease them. If you need extreme measures to do so, that's fine, but don't base your plan on whether or not it will offend me."

I started to speak, "I understand that, but Bruce, you have to be involved with this, you can't walk away, not now… If Ra's is up to something, it involves you just as it does the rest of us, if not more so."

"I know… but I have my own demons to fight… this one's for you."

Although my mind flashed back to what Alfred has said that morning, I managed not to ask if there was something wrong.

After all, it was obvious that there was.

^V^

I woke up alone, cold and sore in Nathan's bed.

Putting my hearing aides in, I carefully sat up, using the safety of solitude to let out a wince. Having spent the last few months rebuilding the muscle tone and flexibility of my torso, it required daily maintenance. Seeing how I spent the last two days either in bed or in a chair, my body was reeling from the inactivity.

With the bedside clock putting the time just after eight, I navigated the corridor to the master bedroom, surprised to find it unlocked and empty. Even before our fight the previous night, Selina had intended on going to the Preserve to start the process of catching up on all that she had missed during the week of Thanksgiving. In the aftermath, my only question was if she would come back armed with a Bengal tiger.

Stepping into the room, I found that the bed was made and that everything seemed to be in order. No broken vases, no shattered mirrors, even the picture she kept of us on her bedside table had remained unharmed. Perhaps a night alone was what she had needed, to come to terms with things. Walking into the bathroom and spotting her wedding band and engagement ring on the counter, I reminded myself that one night wasn't nearly enough to get over what I had done to her.

… _Until you decide that you're ready to stop doing this to me…_

It took twenty minutes under the scalding water of the overhead shower to bring my muscles to life. With a towel around my waist, I shaved at the sink, keeping my eyes on the task and not on the white gold rings a mere foot away. I took my morning medication, split into two difficult swallows and washed them down with water that I cupped into my hands from the faucet. Drying my face and neck with a hunter green hand towel, I let my eyes fall to the counter top once more.

… _I don't want to see you. I don't want to hear a word out of your mouth unless it is the god damned truth…_

Returning to the bedroom, I sat down on her side, picking up the house phone and dialing her cell. As expected, it went straight to her voice mail, "This is Selina, please leave a message and I will get back to you-."

Hanging up, I dialed her office extension at the Preserve. Again, her computer recorded voice greeted me, "You've reached the office of-."

My third call went to the reception desk where I was finally met with a human being, "The Preserve and Wildlife Education Center, this is Rachel, how can I help you?"

"Morning, Rachel," I put on my best fop voice, "This is Bruce… I was trying to get a hold of Selina but she's not in her office and not answering her cell phone…"

"Oh, good morning, Mr. Wayne… um, let me see if I can track her down for you, just one moment."

"Thank you." I put was put on hold with soft instrumental music to keep me company.

Three minutes later, Rachel returned, "Mr. Wayne, she hasn't arrived yet, but Dr. Klein said they had a meeting scheduled at ten-thirty. When she comes in, I can have her give you a call."

"Oh, that's okay… thanks anyway."

"Okay then, have a wonderful day."

She should have been in by eight-thirty at the latest after dropping the kids off at school, even taking traffic and a stop at the coffee place she liked into consideration.

I picked up the phone one last time.

After three rings, I was greeted with, "Hello?"

"Barbara, it's me."

She hesitated before responding, "Oh, hi… you're up awful early, aren't you"

"Can I talk to Selina?"

Another pause, then, "What?"

"I know she's there, Barbara... Just put her on the phone."

There was a muffled conversation as Barbara covered the receiver with her palm. At one point, I distinctly heard Dick's voice, but was unable to make out the words. I waited patiently on the other end for two minutes before Barbara spoke, "Bruce, I'm sorry… she… she doesn't want to talk to you. She said she would be home later, after picking the kids up from-."

I had the decency to end the call before throwing the phone across the room, watching it collide with the wall and fall in pieces.

Dressing on autopilot, I descended in the elevator to the ground floor. As expected, the house was empty with Leslie at the Free Clinic, the kids in school, Dick at his own home and my wife avoiding me. What was unexpected was to find Tim in the informal den, his dog and my son's laying nearby. Apparently, I hid my surprise poorly as Tim jumped right up to apologize in his own way for the meeting the night before, asking for my help and my input as they carried onward.

When I said that it was up to him on how to proceed with questioning Talia, he replied, "I understand that, but Bruce, you have to be involved with this, you can't walk away, not now… If Ra's is up to something, it involves you just as it does the rest of us, if not more so."

"I have my own demons to fight right now… this one's for you."

He shook his head, "No, it isn't. Whatever this ends up being, whatever we find out from her… Come what may, it's going to be your demon, whether you want it to be or not."

I paused before responding, "I know. And I trust to you step in at the last minute and save me… again." Tim stared at me in confusion long enough to force me to change the subject, "Have you eaten?"

He welcomed it, "Yeah, this morning with the kids. Cass is upstairs on surveillance, figured I would head up soon to relieve her."

"We don't need to monitor her at this point. She's not going anywhere. Get some rest."

"It's okay, I caught a nap this morning-."

"You want to out think her later, you're going to need more than a nap."

He smirked at that, rubbing the back of his head while saying that he would rouse Cass and head home for the morning " I'll catch up with you this afternoon, about everything… okay?"

I nodded slightly before turning to leave, calling for Ace to come with me. Although he was content to rough house with his companion, the dog showed no hesitation in rising to his feet and trotting after me.

Although not hungry, I had to eat something or risk suffering a morning a nausea from the Phenobarbital. Entering the kitchen, I found Alfred hard at work kneading dough on the counter, his green apron protecting him from stray flour. Ace left my side to lap at the water bowl by the far door, prompting Alfred to inquire, "Might I prepare you something, sir? At the very least your own water bowl."

"Coffee for now," I replied, watching as the dog turned around and moved to sit at my left side. I pet the broad patch of skull between his ears as Alfred washed his hands, poured coffee and brought it to me. "Thank you."

"You are very welcome, sir… Have you spoken to Master Tim yet?"

"Briefly… he and Cassandra are going next door for the morning."

"Well deserved rest for the both of them, no doubt. Especially given that the events of last night have overrun the news," he nodded to the folded news paper that sat on the far end of the island counter. Leaning over, I grabbed it and unfolded it to read the front age head line: **3 dead, 7 wounded in BPD sniper shooting, suspect in custody**.

In all of the chaos of the previous night, I had nearly forgotten about the sniper, focusing on my own personal turmoil.

Alfred rolled the dough into a ball then put it in a glass bowl to rise, "The article was kind enough to praise Master Tim for his efforts… albeit in the third to last paragraph. Then again, what was it that you always said about Batman?"

"The less press the better."

"Ah, yes. Well, thankfully he is miniscule both in print and television… may the dark knight continue to lurk in the shadows."

I ignored his remark and countered with, "Did you talk to Selina this morning?"

"Not specifically, sir. Just briefly during breakfast… is there something amiss?"

"Don't play the fool, Alfred."

He nodded, walking silently to the refrigerator to retrieve the remnants for breakfast, finally saying, "I will have to prepare fresh eggs, sir, but there is still plenty of hash and pumpkin muffins to be had…"

"What did she say?" I proceeded to ask, lowering my voice a fraction.

Setting the egg carton and the ceramic serving dish on the counter by the stove, Alfred turned around and finally looked at me, "She didn't need to say anything, sir. She was quite obviously upset, for what reason I am unsure. It is not my place to meddle in your affairs, sir, it never has been."

"That's never stopped you."

His eyes narrowed briefly before he said, "Very well, sir. The absence of her rings was enough to suggest an argument, one grave enough to leave such a confident woman in such a upset state of mind. Whatever has transpired and whoever is to blame is of little consequence to me. As long as the matter is resolved and …. apologies are made."

Reaching for my coffee, I mused that I had tried to apologize… but _I'm sorry _wasn't going to-.

A sudden burning sensation in my hand brought my attention back into focus. Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Alfred rushing towards me, my gaze somewhat focused on the overturned cup on the counter, the hot liquid dripping to the floor.

"Are you all right, sir?"

I nodded, righting myself on my feet before letting go of the mug. Staring down at the coffee pooling on he floor, I cursed myself for taking my evening medication too early, my morning meds too late.

"I'll tend to this, sir. Go rest in the study, I'll bring you your breakfast shortly."

"No… I'm… I'm going to go upstairs."

He seemed shocked that I would voluntarily resort to proper rest without prodding. As he began mopping up the coffee still on the counter, he said that he would be up in twenty minutes with hot tea and a warm meal. And Alfred was more than welcome to bring my meal to the master bedroom, but I was uncertain as to whether or not I would be there waiting for it.

With the dog at my heels, I made my way to the second floor, finding the room Tim and Cassandra had set up to be empty. I entered long enough to make sure the surveillance equipment was still set to record. Unlocking the next door over and curtly knocking, I was bid to enter with a soft, "Come in."

Leaving Ace in the hall, I did as told.

She was sitting on the floor, facing the windows over looking the side lawn. After I closed the door, she turned to look over her shoulder at me, "What a pleasant surprise."

"We need to talk."

"That's what you always say…" Talia smiled as she rose to her feet, approaching me with a soft look on her face.

Despite the pain in my leg and the fog building in my skull, I firmly planted my feet while exhaling slowly, "That's what I always mean." I paused before continuing, "Tim and Dick are going to interrogate you later today. They are looking for information regarding your father's last known whereabouts, what his plans have been and everything about Jason."

"I've already-."

"You've given us nothing but an empty coffin."

She physically flinched at that, turning away from me in order to sit on the bed.

Holding my ground, I proceeded, "I figured… that after everything, I owed you the courtesy of questioning you myself. Right here, right now."

"What about your protégés?"

"If I feel it is necessary, they will have their turn. I know you well enough to tell when you are lying… they don't. That's why they intend to drug you into doing so."

Her left brow rose at that, "Oh, really?"

"Yes."

Her smile returned, "And you are… afraid of what I might say? Is that it?"

It was terrifying having secrets revealed behind my back, hence why I had gotten the ball rolling with Selina. By the end of the day, everyone in the Family would no doubt hear of my transgression and be firmly set in their opinions regarding it. Whether or not I explained to my children why their mother had taken to hating every fiber of my being was still up in the air. The last thing I needed was for them to be any more traumatized then they already were.

"No. I expect you tell them the truth… the same truth that you'll tell me."

Her eyes fell to her feet as they reached the carpet. I joined her in watching as her toes gently traced circles, first in a counter clockwise pattern then in the opposite direction.

"How tragic… that I have hurt you so many times for you to feel this way… for you to hate me so."

"I don't hate you," I replied quietly.

"You don't love me," she said, her eyes finding mine. "You used to."

It was natural for her to try and distract me by bringing up old memories and feelings. In fact, it was one of the only ways she had ever been able to get the upper hand on me decades earlier. Convincing me once more that she had left her life of crime behind in order to be mine. Thankfully, I had developed an immunity to it.

"A lifetime ago," I commented.

"A lifetime… seems like ten… we are both so very different now… shadows of what we once were."

"I didn't come here to talk about what once was, I came here for what's happening now."

"Very well," she sighed while pulling back the lock of dark hair from her face, revealing the pink scar, "What is it that you want to know?"

^V^

When Richard had arrived just before seven in the morning, he had dropped off a fresh breakfast tray and removed the one holding the remnants of my dinner. The previous day, he had questioned me, even fought with me, but that morning he hadn't said a word. Not entirely a good sign considering they had a meeting regarding my immediate future.

Although for the second night in a row I had been able to rest peacefully, I woke feeling fatigued and stressed. Bruce had given me the courtesy of letting me know they were discussing their plans concerning not only myself but my father and the fiancé he was forcing upon me. I had expected for at least one of the acting vigilantes to inform me of their final decision at some point in the evening, but had been left in the proverbial dark.

Out of sight perhaps, but I certainly had not been out of mind.

With Richard having come and gone, I had been left to myself yet again. Alone, I had been alternating between staring at the sealed door and out the windows on the expansive lawns of Wayne Manor. I had done so in search of any sign of life, whether it be the black garbed figures of my father's men or the forms that belonged to a family I had never been able to be a part of. One that had never trusted me…

That wasn't entirely true, I reminded myself.

Once upon a time, Bruce had trusted me.

Once upon a time, Bruce had loved me.

But there had been no happily ever for us, just one tragedy giving way to another.

His first question was, "When and where was the last time you saw your father?"

Answering honestly, I replied, "The beginning of June… at his manse in Turkey."

He looked tired. Old and tired. And yet he was still very much a part of the life he had left behind, something that truly intrigued me given the familial life he had developed over the last few years. The man I had known would have never taken a wife, had children… If he would have, it would have been with me.

I motioned him to take the chair beside the bed but he shook his head slightly, "Where in Turkey?"

"Just south of Urfa… he has had the property for centuries… built a base beneath it thirty years ago… much like your own subterranean dwelling, although far more hospitable."

"Is that when you last saw Jason?"

I shook my head, "No. I realized that I was being tracked when I went to Paris because I saw him, standing near a coffee stand." Picturing his auburn hair and dark eyes, I added, "He never was one for blending into the crowd…"

"Is he with the group that is tracking you?"

"Not that I am aware of… and if he was, they would have found me by now… His work for my father is of equal importance, to send his second hand man on the chase after me would be a waste of manpower… Beloved, please sit… you look simply haggard."

"I told you-."

I cut him off with an apology, "I'm sorry… Bruce."

He hesitated but when I told him I refused to answer another question until he seated himself, he gave in. Bruce then repeated himself, "Are they looking for you in Africa?"

"They have followed my trails, both real and false, all through the summer months. I have no reason to suspect otherwise."

Bruce inhaled slowly before proceeding, "Will your father marry you to him? Upon your return?"

He was changing the topics abruptly, a classic interrogative method that made attempts to snare suspects into trapping themselves in their own lies. Unnecessary, I thought before answering, "He will no doubt encourage me to consent, yes. But I'll refuse. No doubt that will lead to Jason killing me, my father's wrath be damned."

"I find that hard to believe."

Staring directly into his eyes, I elaborated, "You may think that you know him… but you do not. There is nothing left in him that was the boy you knew, the boy you loved. That boy is long dead… what's left is a cold, heartless monster."

His eyes drifted to stare at the scar on my face, focusing back when he asked, "What did he do?"

I took a moment to think about the hot August afternoon on the sandy beach of Crete, where Jason had lanced open my cheek with a smile o his face. I finally replied, "He challenged me in arms… When he got the upper hand, he got carried away."

Bruce narrowed his eyes, "How long ago?"

"Five years. Still itches when it's humid. You have a score of them that do the same, yes."

He paused for a moment, then said, "In the transmission, you said your father had been preparing for something involving my family. What is it?"

"I told you, they excluded me long ago… it's been between my father, Jason and their men."

Rising from the chair, he shook his head, "I told you not to lie to me."

I stood as well, reaching out to grab his arm as he turned away, "Bel… Bruce, I swear on my mother's soul, I don't know what they intend to do… I only know that I needed to warn you. So you could protect your family."

As I held his forearm, he looked down at me but said nothing.

Letting my fingers slip from the soft material of his sleeve, I added softly, "If I had tried to contact you directly or even had come here first… it would have led them straight to you… I couldn't do that. Not after betraying you before… I couldn't do it again."

Still, he remained quiet.

"Please, believe me."

Finally, "I do."

We sat down again before he proceeded to ask a score of questions about Jason's training, what missions he had accomplished over the years and his relationship with my father. For the better part of an hour, I tried to be as honest as possible, only leaving out the most offensive of details when it came to the lives he had taken and the pride he had in it. Even still, the look on Bruce's face grew to be an even mixture of pain and guilt.

I found myself apologizing, for causing him such suffering.

Bruce shook his head, "No… don't be… it's not your fault."

"It is… I should have never let my father act as he did… resurrecting a boy best left for dead."

His eyes closed as he briefly relived his own personal hell. I had seen him at his lowest in the months following Jason's untimely demise. Granted he had spent years risking his life for others, but after losing his young partner he had proceeded to do so without thought or weighing the consequences. The brilliant man I loved had turned into a risk taking beast that acted solely on instinct and not intellect. Where my father had hoped to bring life back to the boy in order to mend Bruce's mind, I had hoped that it would have done the same for his soul.

There were few things he truly loved in the world, and his sons were held high above all else. All that had changed over the years was that he had added a wife and daughter to the mix…

Looking at the sadness Bruce was trying to contain, I found myself explaining, "At first, he was so curious as to how you had carried on without him, how you had coped… my father assured him that you had been unable to do so… that what had happened to Jason would always haunt you. But not once did he ask to see you… ask to contact you…. He never wanted to go back to what he once was."

I rose from the bed once more, standing before Bruce in order to set my hand on his face, "Speaking of you did not pain him… it only angered him. You must understand… his hatred for me is out of jealousy… his hatred for you is visceral. If he were to kill me out of simply being rejected… I can only begin to imagine how he would choose to punish you… and your family."

Once more, I let my hand fall away from him, "As distant as we have grown, I could not sit idly by and allow you to endure another tragedy."

He remained silent, the only sign of life being the pained look in his icy eyes.

Eventually, he exhaled slowly before sitting back into the chair, "Tim will still want to speak with you before you are relocated to the Watchtower."

"Do you honestly think that is safer, for me?"

"It's safer for my family. And if they are the reason that you came here, then I see no reason for you not to comply," he spoke softly.

"Very well," I offered, taking a seat on the bed once more, "If that is what you wish."

He nearly said something, but clenched his jaw shut and nodded. I watched on as he touched the ring on his left hand for just a fraction of a second. A subconscious action given the distant look in his eyes, but I was curious as to what the purpose behind it was. When we had been wed, there had had been no ceremony, no rings, no vows… just us.

"Is there anything else?" I wondered aloud.

Bruce looked at me and answered, "No."

"Will you be there… when your protégés question me as well?"

"Yes."

"Monosyllabic replies… perhaps not much has changed in you after all," I offered a warm smile.

Although his face remained solemn, his voice seemed more at ease, "Perhaps."

Another silence fell between us, leaving me to wonder if he had run out of questions or had grown tired from the last hour he had spent questioning me. Knowing the latter was more likely, I wanted to ask if he was through, if he still felt his colleagues needed their shot at cracking the secrets they believed I was keeping.

When he moved to rise to his feet, I stopped him with my own question, "If you find my father and Jason… what will you do?"

Once he was standing, he answered, "I won't be the one looking for them... You know that."

"Then your protégés… your Justice League? Their encounters with my father have never ended well in the past," I reminded him as gently as possible, "Not without your assistance." Even still, the mere mention of perhaps my greatest transgression lowered his brow and forced his lips to twitch.

"I wouldn't have left my life's work to those not worthy, Talia." he countered curtly before turning towards the door.

I rose as well, quickly reaching his side, "Bruce?"

Without looking back at me, he paused in front of the door, "We're done for now."

"Bruce, please wait… I need to-."

He proceeded to unlock the door, pulling it open far enough to allow him to pass through although he remained frozen in place. Mostly due to the fact that opening the door had revealed his wife to be standing just outside in the corridor, arms crossed over her chest. Bruce glanced back at me quickly, and then to Selina. As expected, he stepped forward, shut the door and locked it from the outside.

I pressed my ear to the cold panel of reinforced steel that acted but was unable to hear either of their reactions on the other side. Given the brief glimpse I had seen of her scowl, it was most likely an unpleasant conversation. Bruce had said that he expected me to tell the truth to the others as I had to him. I suddenly wondered if he had acted similarly, exposing his past to them…

Our past.

He had always been one for secrets, not blatantly lying, but doing what was necessary to keep information from falling into the wrong hands. My father had never been able to understand why he had chosen to hide in plain daylight as Bruce Wayne when he could have easily used the resources and connections to make Batman's work far more effective. Granted, it had allowed him to feign normalcy, but it was fairly obvious that the life of Bruce Wayne was the farce and that of the Detective was the true existence.

He fought for justice in honor of his parents, he lived a lie to carry on their name.

The trauma that had beseeched him of his childhood had sculpted every action, every decision and every thought that followed, for over forty years. Tragedy had stuck his mind, body and soul, had taken the lives of his colleagues and had brought his city to its knees, time and time again. And even after passing the cowl to the next generation, he had persevered. It was easy to see that he refused to let go, but it was difficult to determine whether it was out of desire or need.

Obsession or necessity…

I had convinced myself earlier in the year that he was not the man he once was. Seeing him so weak in the Cave upon arriving, so unsure as to what was to come, had only supported as much. My father and I had once agreed that he was the only man suitable to sire an heir for our empire. When that had failed, he had turned to the villainous counterpart of the Batman, the power hungry Bane. Again, once that faltered it had been a never-ending line of men not even worthy to look upon me let alone to touch me.

Somehow, that had led to and stopped at Jason Todd, a mere fraction of the man his mentor was.

Faintly hearing the heated argument through the door, I smirked.

Deep down, where it mattered, my beloved had not changed at all.

Returning to the bed, I mused on the fact that his young son was so very similar. Despite his age, he was a miniature replica, both in appearance and character. It would take years for the boy to develop the necessary self-control that allowed his father to act with such certainty. The skill was there, the intellect, the natural athleticism and the icy blue stares. He certainly had every advantage available to him, just requiring that unknown element to prepare him for the life that he was born into.

After all, there was only so much a mother could teach her son.

^V^


	10. Come What May:  X

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: "You know better than anyone that it's only just beginning."

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: References made to events in Son of the Demon.

^V^

"From the sounds of it, he was trying to. He volunteered the information-."

Without thinking, I snapped back at Dick, "Are you taking his side?"

"Whoa," he raised his hands up defensively, "I'm just saying that maybe he was trying to do the right thing… maybe he'll answer whatever questions we- you have."

The anger had already been building up overnight, and to my surprise, seeking solace from Barbara had only resulted in it bubbling over. Moments earlier I had been on the verge of tears, but at that second, my brow was low, nearly as low as my tone, "I shouldn't have to ask him, I shouldn't have to interrogate him! He should have told me!"

The looks on both of their faces were nearly identical, a mixture of worry and fear. Barbara appeared to be a tad more worried, Dick a fraction more fearful. I found myself looking to find Ethan still blissfully engaged with his morning television program. There was a handful of times that I had fought with Bruce in earshot of the kids, causing me to regret not only the level to which I had lost control of my emotions, but for also losing track of my priorities.

A lioness was supposed to protect her young… and the young of her pride.

"I'm sorry," I found myself saying, taking a seat back on the couch, "I didn't sleep last night…"

Out of the corner of my eye, I caught Dick smirking, "Well, cats are nocturnal."

Although I wanted to smile at his remark, I found myself sighing, "And you're not the one I should be yelling at."

Barbara reached over and briefly placed her hand on my shoulder, "It does sound like Bruce was trying to come clean. Trying to tell you the truth."

I had come to Barbara for support, for help.

"He doesn't do it very often, it's no wonder he messed it up," she added.

Now, to hear the defendant's case.

After a beat, I replied, "That's not what's bothering me… it's the fact that it has taken him fifteen years to do so." When neither managed to form a response, I continued, my tone softening, "And I honestly don't think I can forgive him."

Barbara nodded, "I understand… listen, we'll get cracking on those files right now, see what we can access."

Bruce's face flashed before my eyes, his words muted, the apologetic look in his eyes unnerving.

"No… I think… I think maybe I'll just ask him."

"You sure?" she asked.

Nodding, I proceeded to exhale slowly, "Sorry for ruining your morning."

"Don't even start, cat-lady," Dick commented as he walked over to sit beside Ethan, "It's best to get second opinions before combating with Bruce's line of thought."

My eyes remained on father and son, trying not to think back on finding Bruce sleeping with Nathan earlier that morning. Or when he had stayed with him through Strep throat. Teaching him to ride his bicycle. Seeing Bruce hold him for the first time in the NICU.

His lies had been justified in his mind, a place that no one would ever truly understand.

But if anyone could, it should have been me.

I was about to apologize again before leaving when the cell phone on the coffee table came to life. Dick leaned over and grabbed it, handing it to Barbara after looking at the display. She let it ring a third time before answering with, "Hello?"

Dick said softly, "It's Bruce."

Barbara paused, then said into the phone, "Oh, hi… you're up awful early, aren't you?"

A pause, then, "What?" Barbara proceeded to cover the bottom of the device, looking to me while sighing, "He wants to talk to you."

I shook my head, "I can't, not right now."

Dick asked, "Is he pissed?"

Barbara answered, "No, just… sad."

Rising to my feet, I repeated myself, "I can't, I can't talk to him right now. Tell him… I'll be home after getting the kids from school."

After a brief moment of silence, she took her hand off of the phone and said, "Bruce, I'm sorry… she… she doesn't want to talk to you. She said she would be home later, after picking the kids up from-. Bruce? Hello?"

While she set the phone back down on the coffee table, Dick asked, "He hang up?"

Barbara nodded, "Yeah… For what it's worth, he genuinely sounds upset, Selina."

"I bet he does," I replied softly, thinking even in his morning haze, even he wouldn't have missed seeing the rings on the bathroom counter. "I just need time to think about it. Alone."

Leaving the city had been much easier than the drive in, both figuratively and literally. I let my mind wander while automatically navigating, trying to figure out the best way to broach the subject at hand with Bruce. Specifically, how to do so without resorting to more senseless fighting and lying. If he was interested in telling me the truth, without prompting or force, than perhaps there was a chance we could settle things once and for all.

I was due at the Preserve for a meeting with our supervising veterinarian mid-morning. After taking the previous week off, I had been barley able to fathom the amount of paper work, phone calls and e-mails that were waiting for me. It would have been easy enough to get on the Taconic and head north, making it to my office with plenty of time to spare. After my meeting, I very well could have locked myself in, catch up with as much as possible and still make it home to pick the kids up from school. The hour drive to and from and general busy work would have given me ample time to think things through, plan my next move and at the very least let tempers cool.

Just a few of the things that crossed my mind as I headed up the drive towards Wayne Manor.

I took the time to park in the garage, not surprised to see that Bruce's BMW was still idle in its place. At least I wasn't the only one playing hooky, I mused while heading through the service entrance. Despite the fact that breakfast had been served two hours earlier, I was greeted with warm smells. I followed them to the kitchen where Alfred was plating a tray with an omelet and the remnants of the potato and ham hash from earlier.

He glanced up at the sound of my soft footfalls, genuinely surprised to see me, "Ms. Selina…"

"Is he up yet?"

Alfred hesitated before nodding, "Yes… in fact you have just missed him."

"Down in the Cave?"

He shook his head, leaving the tray in order to focus on his words, "No. He came down not terribly long after you left in order to send Master Tim and Ms. Cassandra home to rest… I was in the process of preparing him breakfast when he had a petit mal seizure."

As angry as I was with Bruce, I was unable to suppress the twinge of guilt on my stomach. I covered it by asking, "Is he okay?"

With a nod, Alfred continued, "Just tired, it seemed"

I paused, staring at the unattended coffee mug that sat before one of the stools, "Did he tell you about last night?"

"No, madam. I informed him that it was none of my business as to what had transpired between you, just that I desired it to be mended in a reasonable amount of time."

Without thinking, I stepped forward and reached out to touch the cold, glossy marble counter top. My fingers proceeded to trace the mug's handle, surprised that it yielded to move so easily. Looking up at Alfred, I found myself admitting, "He told me… that he and Talia were once married. Not long after Jason died."

There was a quick shadow of shock on his face, but he managed to cast it aside in order to offer me comfort, "It was a very dark time, for all of us. We all made mistakes, out of grief, out of anger. Master Bruce's errs tended to involve willfully allowing himself to be harmed, physically… and apparently on an emotional level as well."

"Did you know?"

"No, I assure you," he pleased, striding closer to stand beside me, "I never truly understood what transpired in those three months that he had been away. All I know is that he left us as a violent, senseless being in pain and returned to us in a near opposite form. Calm, quiet… but still in pain."

He had tried to apologize. He had tried to come clean. I wouldn't let him.

Deep down, I wasn't sure if I really wanted to know what else he was hiding.

Before I could ask, Alfred said, "He was heading up to your quarters to rest. When I deliver his meal, I will tell him you've returned if you wish…

"No," I interjected quietly, "I'll take it up… and tell him myself."

The ride up in the elevator was in as much of a fog as the drive back from Gotham had been. My mind, however, was eerily quiet. Arriving at the master bedroom, I balanced the tray in one hand and silently opened the door. The drapes were still pulled back but the overhead lights were off. Setting his breakfast down on the night stand, I called out, "Bruce?"

I checked the bathroom, finding the room cold and dark, the shower still baring droplets of water on the tiled walls. Touring the bedroom itself, the only thing out of place was the shattered portable phone as it lay in pieces by the far wall. No doubt after being rejected by Barbara, he had thrown it in place of hanging up on her…

Systematically, I checked the rest of the rooms on the floor, finding no sign of life save for the rumpled blankets on Nathan's bed. It was then that I realized Ace had not been down with Alfred, meaning he was at Bruce's side, wherever that was. Taking the steps two at a time, I nearly rushed passed the second floor landing, stopping at the sight of the big, sable dog laying in the middle of the corridor. My next intended stop had been the study, followed by the Cave.

In my momentary lapse into forgiveness, I hadn't even thought of checking Talia's room.

Quickly, I strode down the hall, not surprised to the see the door securely shut. Moving into the next room, my eyes quickly found the surveillance monitors still running, still recording. My breath hitched as I spotted Bruce sitting in the arm chair, Talia standing before him with her hand gently touching his cheek. She spoke to him, making his solemn look intensify. I wanted to turn the volume up on the monitors but I was frozen in place.

Finally, when her hand fell away, I reached for the knob just in time to hear her say, "As distant as we have grown, I could not sit idly by and allow you to endure another tragedy."

Bruce was motionless, his gaze filled with what appeared to be remorse on the small screen. After a moment, he sat back into the chair and said, "Tim will still want to speak with you before you are relocated to the Watchtower."

She was quick to ask, "Do you honestly think that is safer, for me?"

"It's safer for my family. And if they are the reason that you came here, then I see no reason for you not to comply," he replied, his eyes never leaving her face.

"Very well," Talia nodded as she sat on the bed, "If that is what you wish."

I was uncertain as to what to call the emotion boiling inside. Anger didn't seem to do it justice, nor did hatred. Watching them casually talk with one another after Bruce and I had shared such heated words was painful to watch. He should have been battling with her, not me.

A sudden movement drew my focus back to the screen as Bruce stood to his feet. Talia rose as well, quick to move close to him again, "If you find my father and Jason… what will you do?"

He replied, "I won't be the one looking for them… You know that."

"Then your protégés… your Justice League? Their encounters with my father have never ended well in the past…. Not without your assistance."

When Bruce turned for the door, I stormed out of the room, placing myself directly in front of it. As it pulled back, I heard Talia say, "Bruce, please wait, I need to-."

The remorse, the pain, whatever he was feeling vanished before my eyes, replaced with sheer surprise. He shut the door behind him, quickly locking it before turning to face me again, "Selina… I-."

I punched him square in the jaw, hard enough to leave my knuckles singing and to drive his head to the left two inches. Ace rose to his feet and let out a low growl but Bruce stilled him with a gesture of his hand. When he had reclined back down to the carpet, Bruce responded, "I suppose I deserved that."

"I came back to apologize… to talk things over… to hear your side of the story… and I find you with her?"

"You're being irrational," he said, all too calmly.

"I'm being irrational?" I snapped, holding nothing back as I proceeded to growl, "I just heard you on the monitor, Bruce! It's safer for her to be at the Watchtower for our Family... Then why the hell did you keep her here for three days?" When he didn't reply, I continued, "And if they're questioning her later, what the hell were you doing in there? Getting your stories straight? Making sure the lies were all on the same page?"

Finally, he barked, "That's enough!"

"No, no it's not even close, Bruce."

"Selina, my talking to her, the Watchtower… that's not why you're upset, don't pretend that it is!"

I nodded, throwing my arms up, "You're right, it's not. I wonder, though. Why I would be upset about finding you alone with her..."

His lip twitched into a snarl at that remark. Not that it stopped me.

"Oh, wait, I know," I carried on, unable to hide the sarcasm nor the pain in my tone, "A plan backfired on you, once again. God, Bruce, if she hadn't shown up… would you have ever told me?"

He didn't answer, which was an answer in itself.

^V^

I waited until Ms. Selina had exited the kitchen before exhaling slowly.

Directing her to Master Bruce's location had the intention of allowing him to apologize for his actions and to initiate a reconciliation, at best. At worst, it would allow her to carry on her tongue-lashing from the previous night. Having learned the root of their woes, I found myself hoping that it was for the latter.

Shortly after losing Master Jason, Master Bruce had been grievously injured while intervening a hostage situation. A vicious bullet wound to his abdomen had been compromised when he had fallen into the Gotham River to escape a burning helicopter. Not long after the criminals were in custody and the victims were safe, he had collapsed from blood loss in an alley. Before the era of biometric feedback monitors in his suit, there would have been no way of knowing how poor his condition was…

And then, a miracle. Or so it had seemed at the time.

Ms. Talia had been shadowing Master Bruce's efforts, also seeking the terrorist that had been behind the hostage predicament. Although the diabolical gentleman had sent his underlings to do his work, Ms. Talia had hoped that her former beau's deductive reasoning would have allowed for some insight as to his true location. He had fallen to the bullet wound before she had been able to approach him, leading her to bring him home to be healed.

It had taken a blood transfusion, thirty-odd stitches and IV antibiotics and anti-inflammatories to put him back together. After watching him trapped in and uneasy sleep for three hours, I had left to retrieve tea for myself and Ms. Talia, leaving him under her watchful eyes. Returning, I had found him awake, she sitting on the edge of the gurney, their lips together.

It had been long before Ms. Selina had entered both of his lives. Long enough that Ms. Talia had been a somewhat welcome presence, capable of bringing life to icy blue eyes that had been cold and dead since we had laid Master Jason to rest. As expected, Master Bruce had risen from the bed, donned his guise and prepared to leave despite our pleadings. Before they departed, I had asked her to take care of him and she had replied, "I will, Alfred."

That had been the last I had seen of him for three months.

No calls, no messages, no sign of Master Bruce nor his alter ego in Gotham or anywhere, for that matter.

Despite his abilities and resourcefulness, I had started to fear the worst.

And then, out of the blue, he had randomly appeared one night in the Cave, sitting before a blank screen in the computer bay. I had tried to contain my questions and queries, knowing that letting them loose would anger him and they would likely go unanswered. To my surprise, he had apologized for not returning sooner, explaining that he had aided Ra's in hunting down the terrorist. I had congratulated him on his efforts and expressed my sincere relief that he was home at long last.

At that, he had risen to his feet, stared at me blankly and then headed towards the stairs.

I had always expected that something dire had transpired during his time away, but not once did I fathom that he and Talia had been wed and subsequently separated.

There was very little that Master Bruce kept from me, or was able to. The fact that he had managed to hide something so pertinent from me for nearly two decades suggested the measures he had taken to do so. That in itself reflected how on much his secret pained him.

With the kitchen tended to and the laundry well underway, I debated as to whether or not it was best to leave them to their reconciliations. Interfering, especially in an uninvited sense, was less than likely to be welcomed for either party. There was plenty to do to get the great house in order given the number of guests over the long weekend, another reason to avoid the third floor.

Briskly walking towards the elevator, I decided that I would tend to Master Nathan and Miss Mattie's rooms first. And if I happened upon their parents in the process, then so be it.

As expected, Miss Mattie's room was in order, forcing me to perform fruitless tasks such as re-making her bed, adjusting the lamp on her night stand along with tidying her spotless bathroom. Even the sitting room was in order, the video games and DVD cases neatly sitting on the black bookshelf on the far wall, the pillows sitting quietly on the couch and the collection of electronic devices all powered down. Stepping back into the bedroom, I spotted her calico sunning itself by the bay window. Whether she was in such a blissful state as a result of the quiet of the room or the lack of worry in her feline life was unknown.

Master Nathan's room was the polar opposite.

Aside from the unmade bed, I was greeted with tennis balls belonging to Ace and toys belonging to his boy, along with bits of clothing strewn about on the floor. Expected given the child's age and penchant for mischief. What was unexpected was to find Master Bruce's loafers resting on the far side of the bed. Before departing for school, Master Nathan had made mention of the fact that his father had stayed in his bedroom for the night.

All the more reason for Ms. Selina and Master Bruce to have a moment to discuss the previous evening's events.

Knowing the task would require more effort, I decided to arm myself appropriately. Retreating down the hall and to the elevator, I mentally checked off the necessities I would have to retrieve from the second floor storage closet. Vacuum for the dog hair, mop for the bathroom in addition to fresh linens for the bed. I was thinking on whether or not it was wise to change the sheets of Miss Mattie's bed as well when the elevator doors opened.

I heard Master Bruce before I spotted him down the corridor, towering over his wife, "Selina, my talking to her, the Watchtower… that's not why you're upset, don't pretend that it is!"

Ms. Selina threw her hands up in frustration, "That's right, it's not. I wonder, though. Why I would be upset about finding you alone with her..."

She paused, giving him ample time to respond.

When he chose not to, she continued, "Oh, wait, I know. A plan backfired on you, once again. God, Bruce, if she hadn't shown up… would you have ever told me?"

He remained silent, although his gaze traveled from the furious look on Ms. Selina's face to the surprised one that had taken hold of mine.

There had been very few times that I had bore witness to one of their feuds, generally spaced out by yearly intervals. Regrettably, this was the second vicious argument I had been caught in the middle of in the last month. The previous battle had been the result of Master Bruce discovering that Miss Mattie had been on ortho-trycylen for months without his knowing.

A feud I had been able diffuse and one that lord and lady had mutually apologized for.

With both of their heated faces looking in my direction, I suddenly regretted not delivering Master Bruce's breakfast myself.

"Have you come to pass judgment as well?" Master Bruce growled lowly as he began to stride towards me, his left leg painfully stiff.

Ms. Selina was quick to follow him, "Answer me, damnit!"

He paused, spun around to face her and snapped, "You want an answer that you don't want to hear."

I found myself frozen in place, unsure as to whether it was wiser to stride forward and interfere or retreat to safer ground and pick up the pieces later. As an adult, Master Bruce had rarely allowed himself to lose his temper, even in the most trying times. On the few instances I recalled hearing his bellow it had been a result of far too much strife being endured for far too long. Granted, he had snapped or snarled on occasion, but the life he had led held no room for pleasantries and common courtesy.

As a child, he had differed significantly. He had ranged from being silent and withdrawn or blatantly shouting. Thankfully, with Leslie's efforts, we had been able to help him find a balance through controlling his emotions. Unfortunately, he had taken it too far, burying them or simply brushing them aside. Unknowingly, it had been one of the stepping stones for him being capable of a life of vigilantism.

Watching the scene unfold before me, it was if he had reverted forty years emotionally, unable to hold back the pain, inflicting it on others without hesitation.

"I would have never told you about it," he finally answered her, "Because it doesn't change anything. Yes, it happened. It happened seventeen yeas ago. And in all of that time, you were fine without knowing."

"That's where you're wrong, Bruce. I wasn't fine without knowing… you were fine with lying to me."

At that, his eyes softened, followed by his tone lightening, "If I told you at the beginning… every dark secret that I have, every mistake that I've made… We wouldn't be standing here right now. It was three months of my life… a blink of an eye compared to fifteen years..."

Continuing to ignore my presence, Ms. Selina countered with, "I don't care what happened or why you did it, Bruce… and the fact that you don't seem to understand that..." she paused, suddenly losing her voice. After one last glare, she stormed by him and in my direction. As she passed me by, I realized just how painfully glassy her eyes had become, the lids barely capable of holding back tears.

"Selina," he sighed, "Stop."

She hastily boarded the elevator and pressed the down button, disappearing as the doors closed in front of her.

I waited a full minute before opening my mouth, "Master Bruce-."

"Shut up, Alfred."

My typical response to such a terse demand was along the lines of _As you wish, sir _or _But of course._

Surprising him and even myself, I replied, "No."

"What?" he responded.

"No, sir. I will not stand idly by, not this time." Moving to stand before him, I looked beyond the slight flush on his face, the scar on his left brow and the vein that throbbed beside it. He wasn't a forty-nine year old man who had endured enough heartache to last ten lifetimes. He was the boy, hurt beyond words, unwilling to accept that there would be a life beyond tragedy.

Not giving him an opportunity to speak, I proceeded, "Denying the rest of the Family of the truth is less reprehensible… even of myself, sir. But you have done so to Ms. Selina one too many times. Granted, she has known you and your mannerisms for some time… but it still doesn't change the fact that it upsets her. That it hurts her."

Finally, he spoke, "I tried doing the right thing, I told her the truth… and I regret it."

"She is upset with you at the moment, sir, but she will accept it, you must give her time."

Master Bruce shook his head slightly, "You know the only time she ever accepted any truth I revealed to her… was when I told her my identity."

"That instance, you showed that you trusted her, by giving your secret to her. Doing the same so many years later, it shows that you didn't trust her, that you wanted to keep it from her."

As much as I wanted to urge him to confront Ms. Selina to put an end to her suffering, I knew it was as unwise as it was untimely. Much like her feline idols, once she was ruffled, there was a necessary period of time that needed to pass before she would be willing to accept an apology. I had thought that the night they had spent apart would have sufficed, but given their individual tempers, it was sadly not so.

"Rest, sir. I will tend to matters as best as I can."

He nodded slightly, looked at me briefly and then proceeded to limp towards the elevator, waiting silently for the car to return to the second floor.

Alone again, I found myself torn between following him or Ms. Selina. Choosing the latter, I briskly walked to the stairs and began to descend them as quickly as I dared. On a hunch, I proceeded to the kitchen, arriving just in time to see Ms. Selina donning her coat in the open room at the service entrance. Although I had barely made a sound, she was quick to face me, still fighting back the same tears.

"Alfred.. I have to get going to the Preserve… can you… can you get the kids after school? I don't think I'll be back by then," she said, her voice on the verge of breaking.

"Gladly, madam."

She began to speak again, but shook her head silently before stepping out of the door.

Having been unable to aide her, I decided it was worth a return trip upstairs to see if I could further console my other troubled charge. Thankfully, I found him in the master bedroom, sitting on the sofa by the bay window and staring out at the morning that had greeted him so poorly. Where his wife had immediately detected my presence, he hadn't looked over his shoulder at me until I had been in his peripheral vision.

"Ms. Selina has departed for the Preserve, she will be home later this evening."

His eyes returned to the window.

Moving to stand at the arm of the sofa, I added, "I was uncertain of your plans for the day, sir, so I will arrange for the children to be picked up after-."

"She was pregnant."

Taken aback, I inquired, "Who, sir?"

"Talia… when we were… together." His voice was a painful whisper, heavy with guilt. I remained silent, not out of shock, but as a way to encourage him to continue. He took a moment to do so, "She was only a few weeks along… but Qayin attacked the compound, she fell during an explosion… miscarried the next day."

He looked back up at me before saying, "That's why I… acted the way I did when I returned. I had finally come to terms with losing one child, only to have another taken from me."

Kitten trotted over suddenly, leaping to sit beside Master Bruce. The cat rubbed his face against his human's thigh, mewed softly then jumped back to the carpet and out of sight.

Master Bruce exhaled slowly, then finished with, "Like I said… Selina wants an answer she doesn't want to hear."

^V^

Just dozing off on the couch as Ethan played with his magnetized building blocks, my cell phone rang. I ignored the first four rings and even as it chimed when the voicemail was received. Yawning, I glanced down at my son and remarked, "Mommy better finish her nap soon, Daddy is getting ty-ty."

"Ty-ty?" Ethan asked, and adorable look on his far too awake face. When I nodded and repeated his word for tired, he showed no further interest and resumed his work connecting all of his blocks.

With my eyes closing again, the house phone rang.

Not wanting Barbara to actually wake up anytime soon, I leapt over the back of the couch and grabbed the portable phone off of the credenza on the wall. I answered with a fast, "Hello?"

"Master Dick, I do hope I am not interrupting you…"

"Never, Al, just playing with the munchkin. What's up? Talia giving you trouble?"

He hesitated before responding, "No, not in the least. However, I do have a favor to ask of you if you are willing, sir."

"Sure, anything," I asked, my curiosity rising seeing how Alfred rarely asked anyone to do anything for him, with the exception of staying safe on patrols.

"Ms. Selina will be late in returning from the Preserve this afternoon, I was inquiring as to if you would be willing to drive the children home from school."

I hadn't planned on being back in Bristol that early, but there was no way I would be able to turn him down, "No problem… Is everything okay?"

"Never the better, sir. I will be doing my best to get Master Bruce to rest for the remainder of the day, if the children are accounted for, it will be one less excuse for him not to."

"Good call," I replied, "Anything else?"

"That would be more than sufficient, sir. Do try to get some rest yourself."

"Don't worry, Alfred, that is the only thing left on my To Do list for the day."

Hanging up the phone, I looked over at Ethan and said, "Well, Egg-man, what do you think? TV time or play time?"

"Dah-ie, pay under ets!"

"Wonder Pets, you say…" I smirked at him before grabbing the portable phone once more, using it as a prop as I sang his favorite show's infamous songs, "The phone, the phone is ringing! The phone… we'll be right there!"

I spent the better part of the day making it up to Ethan for my recent absence. We played tag, roused Frank for a few rounds of fetch, worked on speaking and counting, ate a box of Teddy Grahams and even worked on his toddler puzzle. For lunch, I made grilled cheese sandwiches, tater tots and sliced up two pears. Although I knew Barbara would still be sleeping, I made sure to prepare food for her as well, even though Frank was at my heels and willing to eat in her stead.

Sitting at the kitchen table with Ethan in his high chair, I smiled on as he hand fed himself bits of sandwich, the dollop of ketchup on his cheek making him impossibly cuter. Letting him enjoy his meal without my assistance, I grabbed my cell phone and proceeded to dial Tim's.

When he answered, he sounded wide awake, "Hey, what's up?"

"Just checking in. Looks like I'll be going up around three," I said while giving a bit of my crust to Frank.

"So no office then… Well, I already called Will and said I wouldn't be in either… Why are you going back up so early?"

I watched as Ethan fought with his sippie cup, tilting it to get the last bit of milk inside, "Looks like I'm picking up the Wayne children from school. Alfred has a full plate, Selina will still be at the Preserve and well, Bruce needs to sit still for once."

"I can get them, you haven't been home in two days."

It wasn't an offer. It was a decision.

"Are you sure?"

"Positive. I need to talk to Bruce anyway… and not a replay of the five second chat we had this morning." He cleared his throat and added, "I won't do anything until you get there, I promise."

"All right… but if I get there and you have her trussed up like a piñata over the northeast precipice, you're going to be in a world of trouble, mister."

He laughed softly, a sound I had missed for far too long.

Hanging up, I proceeded to yawn loudly. Ethan laughed at me, and I responded with, "You wait, little man, it's almost time for your nap, too."

Once his tray was as clear of food as it was going to be, I wiped him up and made sure he was food free in mouth and hand before setting him back on the floor. He toddled down the hallway, calling out, "Ello?" while knocking on the various doors. Frank decided that it was best to wait in the kitchen, no doubt to try and beg off of the next human who dined. As Ethan reached the master bedroom, I opened the door before he struck it with his tiny fist.

Surprisingly, Barbara was already up. She was in the process of making her side of the bed, pointless seeing how once I was horizontal on the queen sized mattress, the blankets would quickly be in chaos. Ethan ran as fast as his little legs would allow, showing no hesitation in climbing up onto Barbara's lap, greeting her with a hug and a loud, "Mahmie!"

"Hi, baby… you have fun with Daddy?"

"Under ets!" he declared before bumping his head into her collar bone.

"Wonder Pets, no way," she turned to face me, "Hey."

"Hey yourself, sleeping beauty," I smirked while crossing the room, opting to sit on the bed, "Feel better?"

"Much… now it's your turn… the both of you."

I let her know that he had already eaten and that her lunch and Frank were waiting for her in the kitchen. She beckoned me forward and as I leaned over, she kissed my cheek, "Thanks, boy wonder."

"Anytime, ginger," I said before kissing her cheek. Being in such close proximity to my pillows, I found myself yawning again.

"I'll put him to bed."

I raised an eyebrow before asking, "And then you'll put me to bed?"

"No… then I'm going to play super-encrypted file hacker."

"Ah," I replied, watching as Ethan slipped down off of her lap in order to walk around the room. "Do you think we still need to do that?"

"Do you think Bruce will tell her everything?"

I waited a beat before saying, "I meant what I said, if he already told her about Talia… I think he won't hold any more back. That's just about as detrimental of a secret as you can have."

"I thought you were just being nice…" she smirked.

"I was trying to give Bruce the chance to be nice to Selina… and vice versa. Life is so much easier when they aren't at each others throats." Ethan returned, opting to attempt to climb onto my lap. I helped him up and kissed the top of his caramel covered head before adding, "I want to say that it's hard to believe that he did it… but deep down, I can't. I remember seeing them together the first time, after I was kidnapped by Ra's… and really every time since… there was always something."

Barbara remained silent.

I didn't, "No matter how many times she burned him… I actually thought once, after he married Selina, that if Talia ever showed up again it would have been the cat-fight of the ages."

"Which is why we've been keeping them separate," Barbara added. She sighed softly then said, "Get some sleep. Let Bruce worry about it for now."

"You're right," I nodded, helping Ethan back to the floor when he began to squirm, "I'm probably not going into the firm today…"

"I'll wake you for dinner," she smiled before heading to the door, "Come on, Ethan, let's find Frank."

Ethan looked to me and then to his mother as she passed through the door, toddling after her calling out, "Fank, Fank!"

Rising to my feet, I shed my socks, pants and watch before pulling back the blankets and collapsing into bed. Although Barbara wanted me to sleep in until five, I set my alarm for three-thirty, wanting to get back to the Manor as soon as possible. It wasn't that I didn't trust Tim, it was more along the lines of just wanting to be there for him, for Bruce.

Sleep came quickly, but it wasn't long before dark, blurry visions loomed over my slumber. It had been months since I had dreamt of the Joker crouching over me, his grin bloody and glorious. Lately, it had been a collection of confusing and claustrophobic images, being in boxes or a crevasse, stuck in a sinking boat, pinned so tightly I was unable to move.

As technologically adept as Barbara was, she did have a dream interpretation guide on the bookshelf in our bedroom. Claustrophobic dreams and nightmares were supposed to represent subconscious feelings of guilt. Guilt over what, I was uncertain.

Two nights without sleep following a week of going non stop all day and all night had me sleeping right through my alarm. Thankfully, Tim called my cell phone at four, forcing my eyes to open as my hand fumbled for the chiming device, "Yeah?"

"When does Mattie's gymnastic practice get through?"

"What?"

"Her after school practice… I went to get her but Nathan said she has practice… couldn't remember when it was over."

"And you're asking me instead of Alfred why?" I rolled onto my back in order to stare up at the ceiling.

"… Well I tried, no answer. Got to the house, found a note that said he was going to pick up Leslie early."

Yawning loudly, I replied, "Just… go to the school, man. Watch your future sidekick in action until practice is over." After a pause, I added, "Bruce was home, right?"

"Yeah, down in the Cave. But I wasn't about to let Nathan run wild upstairs while I went downstairs… didn't help that he refused to pick up the line."

Sitting up, my mind became viciously clear as dread filled my gut, "Are you sure he's in the Cave?"

"Yeah, Barbara is online, says he has been on the computer since noon."

I suddenly wondered if Bruce had spent his afternoon countering Barbara's efforts of cracking his encrypted files. I had tried to give him the benefit of the doubt that morning and not eight hours later I was doubting him.

Guilt defined.

After I told Tim I was going to eat with Barbara and Ethan before coming up for the night, I added, "And… after patrols, I think I'm going to come home."

"That's fine," Tim replied, "I actually want to move her to the Watchtower before we go out… I just have to check with J'onn to make sure everything is in order."

"Wow… that will be a sigh of relief."

"Well, it will be one less thing to worry about. I'll happily sigh when I know where Ra's and Jason are and what the hell they're up to."

We bid farewell to one another for the time being, giving me the chance to either rise for the rest of the day or collapse back into down-filled heaven. I opted for the latter, taking a five-minute shower to clear my head of thoughts, both real and from the dream world. With a towel around my waist, I headed out of the bedroom and down the corridor, peeking in to see Ethan still slumbering. I stopped once more in the kitchen, lured by the aromas of something heavenly brewing in the oven.

Another cracked door and I smiled to see lasagna bubbling away and garlic bread toasting.

As expected, Barbara was hard at work in her lair, fingers attacking the keyboard, monitors filled with a variety of images ranging from weather patterns to footage of the sniper in Bludhaven. Without looking back at me, she greeted, "Nice towel."

"Thanks… figure it really showcases my derriere," I replied while patting my behind. "Any luck?"

"No, but I've been shadowing Bruce while he's worked on the computer in the Cave… but even the files he can access, it's not letting them come through on my end. A lot of them are files matching the dates when Jason died, when he returned from the ordeal with Ra's… It's like he's making sure he has all of his facts in order."

"Or maybe he's reminiscing… you have to remember, Babs… he lost odds and ends from the radiation."

"I know… It's just… I hope whatever he's finding, he's telling her."

Leaning over, I kissed the top of her head, "I'll get dressed… anything else you need done for dinner?"

"Just to set the table… and make sure Ethan is wearing a red shirt under his bib. I still haven't been able to get the stains out of his shirt from last week."

Juggling the telecommunication efforts of the world's finest and multitasking with motherhood.

I had no other choice but to reply with, "You got it, Babs."

^V^

The first day back to school after a five day weekend was tough for most kids. After sleeping in for so many days in a row, not having to think beyond XBOX Live games with friends and of course having been able to spend time so freely made it difficult to go back to a structured schedule. I found myself distracted as well, although for entirely different reasons.

My first class was English, where we reviewed the last chapter we had read of The Outsiders, where Johnny had killed the Soc. I had the read book for summer reading the previous year and had even seen the old movie a few times. It was a tale of family and of tragedy, something I could easily identify with. While we recalled the previous events and discussed a few of the scenes in detail, my mind kept drifting back home, wondering what was going on.

Math had been equally trying. Again, review of the work we had done the previous week, a few problems on the board and then a extra credit quiz. From there, I had gone to gym, happy to finally push my worries aside and focus my brain on physical work. Thankfully, we had just started the swimming unit, so I was able to work on diving and various strokes for the better part of an hour.

Under water, everything was calm and quiet.

Lunch was also a welcome distraction, catching up with friends and to see what they did on their breaks. Since so many of them had traveled, including Terry, I had spent my vacation at home and with the Family.

Piper twirled her spoon in a yogurt cup and said, "It was so cold in Minnesota… they have way more snow there than we do."

"Who lives there?" Angie asked.

"My mom's family," Piper answered before finally tasting the spoon, "We haven't seen them in like forever so she decided we should have Thanksgiving there… but it was cool because we also had like an early Christmas, too."

"That's fun," Angie replied, "We just went upstate to see my dad's parents. But my Uncle Joe came so that was fun…"

Katarina's eyes widened, "Isn't he the one in the army? The one that has the picture in your living room?" When Angie confirmed as much, Kat smiled, "He's hot."

Fixing her bangs, Angie commented, "Weird-o… what did you do, Mattie?"

"Me?" I shrugged, "Not much… We had the charity stuff in the city all week but I ended up having Thanksgiving dinner at my brother's place."

"Yeah, we saw your parents on the news the other night… Did you get to go down and help?" Piper inquired.

Nodding, I replied, "Yeah, it was pretty fun, actually…"

"Guess you had to do something with Terry in Arizona," Kat laughed.

I smiled as well, "Yeah, and we didn't even get to talk much… with the time difference." I glanced over the faces in the cafeteria, spotting Terry sitting with his friends. Usually, he spend lunch with them and study hall with me. I didn't mind, I knew how uncomfortable he was sitting at a table full of girls. Sometimes, I felt the same way.

We all agreed to do something together that Friday, movies and dinner and the mall. Seeing how I didn't share classes with any of them in the afternoon, I bid them goodbye after lunch, promising to be on instant messenger that night. Throwing away my trash by the door, I looked up to see Terry approaching, his sunburn looking slightly less painful.

"Hey," he greeted me with a smirk.

"Hey yourself," I elbowed him softly before taking his hand into mine.

After we navigated through the mass of students exiting the cafeteria in search of their next class, we stopped at his locker first. Terry put his lunch bag into his backpack before unearthing his math text book and binder, "So, you have practice after school?"

"Only until five. Why?"

"Well… Wednesday won't work for coming up to your house, Dad has some big lecture he wants to drag me to."

"Okay… well, we're doing the mall and a movie on Friday…" I pointed out.

"You girls and your malls," he sighed before looking at me, "What about tonight? After practice? I was going to stay and watch you guys anyway."

"Um, I'll have to check with my mom when she picks me up."

"Sure," he closed his locker, "That's fine. If not, maybe we can watch NBC Thursday together."

He walked me to my locker, waited through the warning bell as I found my French books and then kissed my cheek before bolting down the hall to make it to his class. The midday break had done little to put my mind in focus, made even more difficult by the fact that Madame Morris had called in sick and the substitute had showed us a cartoon movie of Le Petit Prince. I had loved the book as a child, reading it so many times that I nearly had it memorized.

Having to watch the childish film added fuel to the fire, my mind going back a day and playing it over from start to finish. The empty casket in the cold grave, hiding in my room, working with Tim and Cass, going to Terry's, coming home and putting on a brave front for my mother.

Pretending everything was all right, just as she had been doing for me and for Nathan.

Thankfully, my study hall with Terry was my second to last period of the day. We shared only the last two hours of school together, the pointless period of pretending to do homework followed by Social Studies. The second semester would be different as we already had planned our schedules to have Art, Telecommunications and Home Economics together.

By the time I arrived, I found he had already claimed a table in the study room by the windows. His math class was right next door, allowing him to have first picks of the tables every day. I decided that the trek back to my locker was pointless seeing how there were no assignments due for the next day save for reading. And studying during study hall was an equal waste of time.

"Okay," Terry retrieved his iPhone as I sat down across from him, "I believe it's your move, Wayne."

Back to the class monitor, I pulled out my phone as well, discovering that it was indeed my turn for Words with Friends. With the weak letters available to me, I conjured up Open and sent it to him. He smirked and quickly countered, using my O to creating Orange.

Pretending to quietly read, we alternated between playing the game and texting back and forth with one another. Given the school's strict policy about phones in actual classes, lunch and study hall were the only safe times to use them. I know Piper had lost her phone privileges during the day from her parents after the principal confiscated her four-hundred dollar smart phone back in October.

She didn't have the finesse and stealth that I had…

Pounce led to Petite.

Tight led to Grape.

I was about to return with Gaunt but a text came on screen from Tim: Don't get expelled to answer this but what time are you done with practice?

Confused, I replied, with: Five, why?

Coming to get you, Mom is running late tonight. Latte is on me : )

I smirked, and said I would be ready for him outside the gym doors.

Terry then whispered, "Who was that?"

"Tim, he's picking me up after school…"

He was quick to point out, "Guess we can't ask your Mom if I can come over."

I smiled at him and sent my word, "Guess not."

The rest of the day was less painful as the hours that had preceded. Terry and I worked together on a packet for Social Studies, trying to put ancient civilizations in chronological order. Given that his father had always pushed for Terry to learn about all things history, it had been a breeze for him. From there, we had made our way to the gym, Terry volunteering to help set up equipment with the coaches and assistants while I changed and stretched in the locker room.

Stepping out into the gym itself, I heard Coach April call my name. When I crossed to where she was standing beside the trampoline, I asked, "What's up?"

"Hey, I have a very important question to ask you… Now don't feel any pressure to answer right away… but… there will be a spot on the varsity team. Clare Allen strained her ankle over the weekend skiing in Colorado."

"Is she okay?" I asked, genuinely concerned for Bristol's top floor exercise gymnast.

"Nothing that rest won't solve. But as you know, we can't have an incomplete team for Regionals in February. If you are interested, I would like to give you that spot."

"Really?"

Coach April nodded, "Really. It would mean practicing with the Varsity girls in the morning, from six to seven-thirty, and with the Junior Varsity team if you were up to it in the afternoons. I want you to think about it, though, as it is a commitment not to be taken lightly."

"Okay, I will think about it."

"Good girl, now, let's get you warmed up for the rings."

Practices ended at five but often times, we stayed later. Thankfully, the basketball teams used the high school gym for their drills, allowing us to use the middle school gym without conflict. Volleyball had moved to the cafeteria in the evenings given how well the gymnastic teams had been doing over the last ten years. With everyone having their own space, it led to less trouble in and out of uniform.

Tim showed up at a little before five, just in time to see me finish my balance beam routine. After a great backwards dismount, I waved at him, "Hi Tim!"

The other girls on the team looked over at him and giggled. Then again, he had asked for it by wearing dark jeans, a fitted black tee shirt and a worn leather coat. Kat had once said, "Forget your dad, your neighbor is the hot one."

After getting my critiques for the assistant coach, I walked over to Tim and said, "Let me just grab my bag, I'll shower and change at home."

"Sounds good," he nodded before spotting Terry, "Hey there, how was Arizona?"

"Good. Sunny," he smirked while gesturing to his reddened face.

As Terry shifted his backpack higher onto his shoulder, I said, "Well, you guys can go, I'll be right out."

"Oh, was I giving you a ride home?" Tim asked.

Before Terry could ruin it, I said, "No, Mom said he could come over tonight." When Tim's brow rose in surprise, I added, "You can call her if you want."

"No, that's okay… it's just… don't you think it's a little busy at the house right now?" Tim pressed lightly.

"We're just going to do homework and play video games in my room… Mom said she would give him a ride home after dinner." I looked over my shoulder and added, "Right, Terry?"

"Yeah, I mean if it's still okay," he smiled sheepishly.

Tim sighed, then shrugged, "Okay."

Ignoring Nathan as he prattled on in the backseat beside me, Terry and I survived the eight minute ride home. Once Tim pulled around to the garage, I practically dragged Terry into the house and upstairs as to avoid being seen by Alfred or my father. It had only been a white lie, my mother saying Terry could come over Wednesday instead of Monday. As we reached the third floor, Terry finally spoke up, "You're going to be grounded forever."

"Nah, maybe a week, although it might feel like forever," I replied as we reached my bedroom door. Letting him in first, I shut it behind him, carefully balancing a small water bottle filled with coins on the door handle. When he asked what that was for, I explained, "I still don't have a lock on the door… so it's kind of like an alarm if anyone tries to turn the knob."

"Clever," he smirked.

"I know, right?" I replied while heading into my sitting room, dropping my bag on the floor beside the couch. Peeling off my sweatshirt left me in my Lycra shirt and my spandex leggings.

He set his bag on the floor as well before shrugging out of his coat, "Well, if you want to shower, I know I have a nasty Halo level to beat-."

I silenced him by stepping forward and planting my lips on his.

When he pulled back, he smirked, "Warn me next time… I had Doritos during your practice."

Smirking up at him, I replied, "I could tell."

Even still, it didn't stop from leaning forward and kissing me, wrapping his arms around my lower back. I instinctively pressed myself against him, my arms looping around his neck in order to be closer to him. Having never been apart from one another for more then a few days since first grade, the last week had been hard, more so with the latest upheaval in the family.

The previous night at his house, I had shared dinner with his sister and father before retreating to his room to watch That 70's Show on Netflix. It had felt so good to laugh and not worry about anything, even thought deep down I knew real life was waiting for me at home. Laying on his bed, we watched three episodes of the Wisconsin teenaged antics, laughing at Fez and Kelso, smirking at anything Hyde said and of course growing quiet whenever the onscreen couples kissed. During the fourth episode, I had found myself rolling over to face Terry, slipping a leg between his thighs while my lips sought out his.

He guided me to the couch, nearly tripping over his bag. I lay down and allowed him to lay on top of me, resting his legs between mine. Terry wasn't much heavier than me, but he still bore his weight on his forearms as opposed to my torso.

It felt good to forget the problems my Family faced.

I could feel him against my inner thigh, the material of my leggings yielding to the warmth.

The life that was ahead of me.

"Now you smell like Doritos, too," he whispered before pressing his lips to my neck, forcing me to laugh.

The trials I had endured that no other teenager would be able to fathom.

It felt good to be normal, even if it was only for a little while.

^V^

The last I had seen of Bruce, he had left mid-meeting in the Cave the previous night.

From the look on his face, he had been equal parts frustrated and furious.

Which was why his quick chat with Tim the following morning had seemed even more odd than it had already…

When he had said we could go home to rest instead of watching Talia, I had to doubt his reason why. Yes, we had all needed to relax after the last two days and of course the best thing to do was go home and clear our minds. It was nice to be able to lay in my own bed with Tim beside me, Robbie at our feet and a surveillance monitor out of sight.

But not out of mind.

Tim had tried to calm any worries with his words, "She's locked in, Bruce can easily watch her from the room next door or down in the Cave. The grounds are at maximum security right now, sensors activated over a mile from the house. And we're right next door."

I had sighed, "You're right."

"Besides, I'm fairly certain Alfred is hiding a loaded rifle in the bread box."

"That's a baguette."

He had kissed my temple, "That's what he wants you to think."

After a silent moment, I had asked about his brief discussion with Bruce this morning, seeing there had been anything more that he had yet to relay. Regrettably, there hadn't been, but he had added, "I think he and Selina are fighting… which ought to make life real interesting for the immediate future."

"How do you know?"

"A hunch… backed by more fact than I would care for."

He had explained Selina's unkempt state, her forced amicability, the bare fingers on her left hand and the fact that Nathan had said his father had slept in his room. Adding in with Bruce's faux "I don't care" attitude and the threatening female presence in the household, it wasn't a jump.

"Talia will go… they'll forgive and forget," I had said softly.

"Hope so," he had sighed.

As exhausted as I had felt, it had taken far too long to fall asleep. I had spent the better part of an hour watching Tim as he inhaled and exhaled slowly, his bare chest rising and falling all on its own. When I had drifted off, it had been fitful, my eyes opening every half hour or so, instantly searching for Tim and Robbie.

Shortly after noon, I had awoke to find myself alone.

A quick trip downstairs, I had located them in the kitchen, Tim hard at work at the stove top and Robbie supervising from a few feet away. Tim had glanced up at me and said, "I was going to do lunch in bed."

"It's okay. I'm up now," I had replied while moving to sit on the counter by the sink. Since our Panini maker was such a pain to clean, we had invested in a grill lined pan to make sandwiches in. I had smirked to see he had decided on Reubens, one of my favorites.

"Have some stuff in the oven, too… and I think we have dill pickles left," he had pointed out after putting the spatula to work.

Hopping down, I retrieved the pickles and plated for two at the island counter, including two glasses of milk. By the time my tasks had been completed, Tim's had been as well. He put the sandwiches, servings of seasoned fries and baked asparagus in golden, flaky crescent rolls. When he had taken his seat beside me, I had asked, "How long have you been up?"

"Thirty minutes… Dick called, I guess Selina is going to be late coming home, so I'm going to get the kids after school." He had paused to eat half of the roll before continuing, "I was going to try to get some work down for the Firm, even just catch up on e-mails and calls… But I'm just going to go next door, get logs done for last night."

I had washed down a bite of sandwich then replied, "Okay… I can do some e-mails. Calls."

"You sure?"

Shrugging, I had said, "No problem, then I'll come over… work out. You can get Mattie and Nathan after."

He had raised his glass of milk to mine, "Sounds like a plan."

He had stayed to clean up, leaving Robbie under my care in order make his way next door through the tunnel. I had curled up on the couch, responding to inquiries and scheduling as few appointments as possible for the next week. Tim had desired to move Talia up to the Watchtower as soon as possible, but it was uncertain where any information gained would lead us.

Will had suffered enough because of our alternate lives.

I hadn't realized how late it had become until Robbie had started to whine. The plan had been to head over to the Cave to spar and get in a quick work out before we moved on to more pressing matters. Somehow, the clock on the laptop read half past four.

While taking Robbie out one last time, I had called Tim. Answering on the third ring, he had explained that he had already picked up Nathan and they had stopped in for ice cream before heading back to get Mattie after her gymnastic practice. I had apologized for being late and he had quickly responded, "No worries… I'm sure we'll get our fair share of work later."

Leaving the Boxer in the house with a bowl of water, an early dinner and treats hidden in various toys, I had made the trek to the Cave. Given that I had missed my intended workout, I had opted to jog the length of the tunnel, adding in shadow boxing to get my blood pumping. Reaching the entrance, I entered my code and biometric scans, calming my heart rate as the reinforced lead-lined doors opened.

It had been just shy of twenty-four hours since I had seen Bruce, but there seemed to be no change in his disposition.

Without my pupil to train, I climbed the tier steps to the main platform and approached the computer bay quietly. The screen was less chaotic than it had been the previous night, only news reports, the police scanner and patrol logs. I noted that the surveillance window was partially obscured by the police scanner window but dared not to voice it.

"Cassandra," he greeted me.

"Tim back yet?"

"Yes, he's upstairs still," he replied, finally looking up at me. Tim was supposed to get the kids so Bruce could rest for the afternoon, but from the looks of it, Bruce had taken the opportunity to work straight through the day. He cleared his throat before standing, "Dick is on his way. As is J'onn."

"J'onn… J'onnz? Why?"

"If we're going to take invasive measures, they might as well be useful ones."

"Not keeping it in the Family?" I asked.

He took a moment before responding, "It's too late for that."

As the silence between us grew awkward, it was thankfully broken by the elevator arriving, letting Dick and Talia step off onto the stone floor. They approached at a reasonable pace, especially considering that neither appeared to be in a good mood. As they climbed the steps to join us, Talia put a soft smile on her full lips, "Is this everyone?"

"Tim will be down shortly. And we are expecting one more," Bruce answered as he appraised her with a calm look.

Dick replied, "Selina?"

"No, she won't be back from the Preserve until-," Bruce began.

Shaking his head, Dick cut him off, "She was leaving when I was just coming up the driveway."

"What?" he asked, his brow lowering. If anyone hated being out of the loop, it was Bruce.

"I called her, she said she and Nathan were running into town to get dinner since Alfred was on his way to get Leslie from the Clinic," Dick paused and then added, "She didn't tell you?"

Talia and I silently watched their discussion, her eyes on Bruce, mine on her.

"Doesn't matter," Bruce moved on, "I've already talked to her this morning."

Dick nearly spoke again when two more figures appeared, Tim taking the granite steps two at a time and the flash of the teleported fading to reveal J'onn J'onnz.

Of all of the members of the Justice League, save for Superman, he had remained close to Bruce both before and after his retirement. During his recovery from amnesia thirteen years earlier, J'onn had been instrumental in helping Bruce regain his memories. He had also stepped up to help Tim adjust to being a JLA member and offered refuge for the youngest members of the Family when the Joker had started moving in on us. J'onn had always been one of the super-powered beings that Bruce had been able to hold confidence in.

And the fact that he was a powerful telekinetic and telepathic didn't hurt either.

"You look well, old friend," J'onn greeted in his deep baritone as he walked over.

"You look well, I look like hell," Bruce responded before grasping the Martian's hand. While Tim strode over to join us, Bruce continued, "I'm sure you remember Talia."

Glaring coldly at her with red eyes, J'onn said, "Of course. The daughter of Ra's Al Ghul. I believe I spent the better part of a day on fire because of you."

"Because of my father," she corrected him.

Once he had stood beside me, Tim nodded his greeting instead of shaking hands, doing his best to hide his surprise by saying, "Thank you, J'onn, for coming. For helping."

Bowing his head slightly, he responded with, "Bruce has done so much for this world, far be it for me not to lend a hand when needed."

After a moment, Bruce spoke, "Talia and I discussed some details this morning about her father's previous whereabouts." He turned to face the computer, bringing up a digital map of Europe, zooming in on Turkey. "She last saw him at his base of operations here, south of Urfa. She saw Jason last at Charles DeGaulle airport in Paris," he skimmed a finger across the sensor pad, immediately closing in on his target. "As far as she knows, Jason is no longer with the group tracking her down, from the sounds of it, he has more important work to do."

"Like what?" Dick asked.

Talia voluntarily spoke, "He has spent nearly two decades training with the League of Assassins. My father has him lead every major operation because he knows Jason will get the job done, no matter what. Hunting me down is not a priority, not anymore."

"Then what is?" Tim asked in a low growl.

"I've told you, I don't know," she snapped at him.

"Enough," Bruce interrupted once more. "J'onn is here to help determine what Talia does and does not know. He will be on guard at the Watchtower, continuing to monitor her until we can settle matters here."

"Bruce," Talia started, "Please, don't do this."

"This is the easy way, Talia. You don't want us to do it the hard way," he replied.

After being directed to take a seat by Tim, J'onn stood behind her, eyes closed as he focused on her thoughts. Dick and I stood back with Bruce, watching Tim as he started off with, "When and where was the last time you saw your father?"

"June, in Urfa. That was the base I escaped from. The one I had sent the transmission from."

J'onn nodded and Tim proceeded, "When and where was the last time you saw Jason Todd?"

So began thirty minutes of questions, each response offering little information but was readily deemed to be truthful by J'onn. I was surprised that Bruce had simply handed the reins over to Tim, but quickly reasoned that Bruce already had heard his answers that morning. It was Tim's turn to try to get to the bottom of things.

"Do you know what base they are at?"

"No, I don't."

"When was your last active mission?"

"Thirteen years ago, after that, my father opted to send Jason out as a leader."

"When did your father 's men take Jason's remains?"

"Seventeen years ago."

"When did you mail that letter to me?"

"Mid-October. From Iraq."

Eventually, Tim paused, unable to trip her up. As much as he wanted her to be lying, she wasn't. She had been excluded from her father and Jason's plans and unable to warn us of exact threats, but had still risked everything to do what she could. It was difficult to think that she had turned over a new leaf, but given the pain she had endured in recent years, it wasn't impossible.

"Is that all?" she asked when Tim remained silent.

"For now…" Tim looked to Bruce and then back to J'onn, "Are the quarters ready?" After the Martian nodded, Tim continued, "Good… We'll go now, get you settled in."

"Right now?" she asked, her body language growing slightly tense, "And for how long will I be stowed away?"

"Until we can find your father," Tim answered coldly.

"I could help, if we go to Urfa, I could get you access to the base, the computer systems…"

Bruce stepped forward, "That's not necessary."

Getting to her feet, she pleaded, "Beloved, please… I've been a prisoner for so long, don't let them lock me up again…"

"It's for your safety, Talia. If something arises and your assistance is needed, maybe then," was all he could offer her.

Her lips parted again to speak, but her words failed her.

Matter settled, J'onn and guided Talia to the pod, set the coordinates for the Watchtower and vanished. As Tim waited for his turn, he said, "We will go to Urfa… but not with her."

Bruce said nothing, choosing to only nod.

"Tonight would best… Dick, I can have someone help you and Cass with patrols…"

"I'm coming, to Turkey," I said, doing my best to convey a tone that was nonnegotiable.

Tim nodded as I followed him into the teleportation pod, "Fair enough…" he paused to look at Bruce and Dick as they stood in place, "Coming?"

Dick waved a hand at us, "Nah, you guys have it covered. I'll suit up and get cracking on the city… give Wally my best."

Tim then looked to Bruce, who shook his head silently.

At that, we stepped into the pod. Tim entered our personalized scan codes, set the destination and sighed, "Let's hope this works."

I was fairly certain he wasn't referring to the teleported.

^V^

When Tim had arrived at the Cave earlier in the day, his first words had been, "I meant what I said earlier. You can't walk away, not now."

Rising from the chair by the computer, I had replied, "And I meant what I said. That I trust to you to do the right thing."

He had been visibly upset, not out of anger but of frustration. My suggestion for him to rest may have been heeded, but it seemed as if it hadn't helped. The same tension from earlier in the day still had its hold over his brow and jaw. His eyes still had bore the burden of constant thought and endless calculating.

"Damnit, Bruce," his voice had lacked infliction, "What is going on? Why are you are you being so passive about all of this? You should be up in arms, pushing us every step of the way… and you're not… You're just… sitting there, as if you're waiting for something."

"You're right," I had agreed him while slowly getting to my feet. Ignoring the slight wave of light-headedness, I had continued, "I am being… passive."

Tim had stepped forward, locking eye-to-eye before saying, "You know, I thought I was beyond the point of having to be tested. I thought by now you could trust me… like I trust you."

Shaking my head, I had responded, "I told you, I have my owns demons to face."

He had stared at me, disbelief crossing his face briefly before he remarked, "If this is about me questioning Talia, you can stop right now. I'm going to have J'onn come down, telepathically evaluate her when I question her… here and at the Watchtower."

"I told you not to second guess yourself on my behalf," I had found myself saying.

"And I didn't," he had replied, "I decided that it was an alternative with benefits outweighing the risks."

"The risks being?" I had inquired, even though I had already known his response.

"Putting another soul in the middle of this god damned mess… which was what you wanted me to do, wasn't it?" he had said, his brow rising while he shook his head.

"It is a better alternative."

Unpleasantries over, I had informed him of my questioning Talia that morning and the information I had managed to gain. I had stressed that it wasn't much, but it certainly was more helpful than the tidbits she had shared in the previous days. We both had agreed that the base her father had last been seen would be the optimal starting point, once it was verified to be true.

"Do you doubt her?" he had asked, finally leaning against the workstation's counter.

"No," I hadn't hesitated in responding. "Although I should know better."

"Well," he had admitted, "She certainly has been more forthcoming to you. She never would have told me about Urfa on her own… or that Jason had been in Paris."

I had grunted in response.

A little before three, he had said he was going to get Nathan and Mattie from school, on relayed orders from Alfred. I had reminded him that Mattie had a gymnastic practice, although I honestly couldn't remember when it ended. He had told me not to worry about it, for me to go ahead and get in touch with J'onn to make arrangements for later.

I had decided it was his brand of punishing me, having me ask for help even from the likes of J'onn.

Help that had been unnecessary for my sake, but had certainly given Tim peace of mind…

I trusted J'onn to watch over Talia. I trusted her not to set him on fire again.

The look I her eyes as she begged not to go…

Not five seconds after his allies had disappeared from the teleportation pod, Dick spoke softly, "Just like that, huh. It's over."

I glared at him before taking back my seat at the computer, "You know better than anyone that it's only just beginning."

"True," he noted before adding, "Hopefully this globe trotting ordeal doesn't take too long… I know I'm good, but it's been a while since I've had to tackle Gotham single-handedly."

"I'm sure you'll manage," I remarked, bringing up the map of Urfa once more. I zoomed in on the longitude and latitude tags I had already determined to be the base on interest. It had taken most of the afternoon, but I had been able to narrow down the location of the base through thermal and satellite imaging. A skeleton crew was still on site, but it certainly wasn't anything that Tim and Cass weren't capable of handling.

"Well, I'm going to go fuel up the jet for Tim, do some pre-flight checks… Then I guess I'm going to head out… unless you need anything?" Dick asked.

I shook my head, "No."

"I can wait until Selina and Alfred get back…"

"Unnecessary," I said instinctively. The strife of the last few days had my mannerisms resorting back to old habits. Terse, short and stern answers, refuting the concerns of others as a way of camouflaging my own worries.

Whatever Tim learned from

"You sure?"

Activating the link between the onboard computer to the main crays, I uploaded maps, layouts and the head counts of soldiers in the base. The jet itself was a modified F-35 with a larger cockpit for up to four occupants and added boosters to allow for nearly vertical landing. With a maximum speed of Mach 2 and a travel range of close to three-thousand miles on internal fuel, it would require one stop to refuel before Tim would be able to cross over the Syrian border and into Turkey.

The easiest and safest place to refuel was an airport in Portugal, a place that had never turned down large envelopes of cash from a masked man.

When I didn't reply, he sighed, "Bruce… Selina came to the Clocktower this morning… she told us what was going on. Between you two."

"I know," I replied curtly, even though it had only been conjecture until that point.

When Selina felt she had no where to turn, she often sought out Barbara, the only other female figure that had been able to tolerate me for decades. Whether it had been her discovering she had been pregnant with Mattie or coming to terms with my retirement, Barbara had always done her best to help Selina understand the situation at hand. Even if I had been in the wrong, she had done her best to at least point out my perspective.

While I proceeded to check the flight schedules of the Aeroporto Internacional de Faro, Dick continued, "I just want to say… Selina might not, but I understand. Not why you did it, but… why you kept it from us."

I inhaled slowly before responding, "Is that all?"

His reflection on the main monitor smirked and shook his head, "Yes."

When he departed towards the hangar on the lower level, I allowed myself to look over my shoulder, watching him until he disappeared out of sight. Same old habits, pushing them away when their only desire was to help in any form they could. Lying as a means of preventing them from enduring any more heartache. Showing anger instead of appreciation…

That morning, Talia had said that I hadn't changed.

I had tried to bury my skeletons in the closet but they were scratching at the door, grasping at the knob.

One skeleton in particular…

I managed to make it to the elevator, passing by the case immortalizing the suit Jason Todd had once proudly worn without looking at it. Every time I tried to picture him as an adult, I could only see him doing the evil deeds Talia had described. Harming her and slaying others, relishing in such vile acts. Hating every fiber of my being, planning a fate just short of heinous.

She had said that he came out of the Lazarus Pit different than the others. Cold. Unfeeling. His laughter made of something from nightmares.

The young boy who had teased Alfred for calling cookies _biscuits _and the young partner that had always waited for me in the driver's seat of the Mobile before patrols was long gone.

I took the elevator straight up to the third floor, not even bothering to check if Selina and Nathan had returned from Bristol.

Sitting on the edge of the bed, realizing it was nearly the exact same spot I had been in when I had called Selina earlier that morning. Glancing towards the wall, I was surprised to see the pieces of the phone still laying in the carpet. I thought to myself that perhaps Alfred had left it as a reminder to stop taking out my frustrations on innocent and inanimate objects. From the front pocket of my slacks, I retrieved my cell phone. No missed calls from her or anyone else for that matter.

After a moment of contemplation, I decided to dial her mobile number for the second time that day.

Ring.

Ring.

Ring.

"This is Selina, please leave a message and I will get back to you as soon as I can."

My voice was quiet, my words sincere.

"I know you don't want to talk to me… but I hope you will at least listen. You said this morning that I didn't understand why you were upset… But I do. I understand that there is nothing I can say or do that will take back what I've done…"

My gaze fell to the picture of us that she kept on her bedside table, the one she had given to me during my recovery from amnesia. I proceeded, my eyes never leaving the smile on her face, "But I want you to know that I regret hurting you. I regret every time I've brought tears to your eyes. I don't deserve your forgiveness, because I won't forgive myself. I do love you, Selina… and as difficult as it may seem, everything that I have ever done was meant to protect you."

Before I could say anything more, an automated voice greeted me, "If you are happy with the message you have left, press pound. If you would like to delete this message and try again, press-."

Hitting the pound button, I closed the connection and set the device on the night stand, forcing the lump in my throat back down into my chest. Crossing the room, I entered the bathroom in order to splash water on my face, pop back an Aleve and stare at myself in disgust. Briefly, I looked at her rings as they silently stared up at me from the countertop, judging me with white gold irises.

Returning to the bedroom, I spotted headlights coming up the drive. Moving to stand by the bay window, I watched as Alfred pulled up in the Lincoln, stepping out quickly in order to open Leslie's door for her. I wondered if trekking back down to the Cave to await Tim and Cassandra's return was worth the effort or the lecture from Alfred. He had been right, I should have taken more time to rest, just as I had practically ordered my protégés to do.

If I hadn't spent all afternoon in the Cave hunched over the keyboard, I very well could have been some assistance to Barbara as she had her efforts split-.

A perimeter alarm broke my concentration.

Returning to the bed and retrieving the laptop from my night stand, I incidentally knocked the alarm clock to the floor the process. Bringing up the security program that shadowed the one operating below in the Cave, I located the activated sensor just as another one came to life. Both were along the rear drive, the seasonal road that had once been an emergency escape route but more recently acted as the path Nathan and I walked with Ace.

As a third sensor went off at the large oak three we had buried Isis beneath, the Manor's security program went into high alert, alarms sounding in the corridors while countermeasures prepared for action. I tried to bring up visual markers closest to the sensors, but the feedback was compromised. As I started to run an electromagnetic scan for signal blockers, the power gave out.

Counting the seconds until the generators kicked on, I should have reached no more than ten. Passing the fifteen mark, I knew the generators weren't going to come back on. The situation was made only more troublesome when the laptop reported a connection error to the crays, security system overrides being performed left and right.

Even my cell phone refused to cooperate.

Talia had come through the old barn entrance, making her way directly into the Cave.

As proximal sensors went off on the back terrace and the defense system treasures failed to spray potent weaponized gas, I deduced that the men who had been hunting her down had decided to take a more direct approach.

I backtracked to the bathroom, left my ring beside Selina's and then summoned the will to run towards the hall, screaming my daughter's name.

^V^


	11. Come what May:  XI

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: They say the calm comes before the storm. The calm is over.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: At long last, Mr. Jason Todd.

^V^

"I don't want to do Barbara Streisand."

"Well, what one, then?" I asked.

Sitting on the couch with Terry, I was skimming through the songs for the Just Dance video game. After a few minutes of simple, hormonal bliss, my phone had chimed. As he sat up and patted down his hair, Terry had laughed that it was fate telling us to do our homework. Smiling, I had answered on the third ring, "Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo, it's me," my mother had replied, "We're going to be a little late… there's an accident on 42 that's blocking the road."

"Are you okay?" I had asked.

"Oh, we're fine. It just might be a while before they let traffic through… I gave your brother a breadstick… worse comes to worse, I'll let him have part of a calzone. Is Alfred back yet?"

"I don't think so…" I had sighed, deciding it was best to get it over and done with, "Mom, I hope it's okay, Terry came over after gymnastics practice so we could do homework."

She had paused before replying, "Homework… is that why I hear Just Dance menu music in the background." As I laughed nervously, she had added, "That's fine, if Dad asks, just tell him I said okay… How is everyone up there?"

I had glanced to Terry before answering, "Good, I think they are all downstairs still."

"Probably, well I shouldn't be more than twenty minutes… I'll let you know when I'm coming up the drive, I'm going to need all hands on deck to unload all of this food."

"Okay… thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, Kiddo," she had said before hanging up.

After setting my cell on the coffee table, I had looked to Terry again, "Mom's going to be a while… guess there's a car accident on her way back out of Bristol… but at least she's bringing food."

"She mad that I came over?" he had asked nervously.

Shaking my head, I had eased his concern, "Nah, she was fine," my gaze had turned towards the television screen, "What about Barbara Streisand?"

"I don't want to do Barbara Streisand."

"Well, what one, then?" I asked, "Forget You? You're good at that one."

"Embarrassingly so…" Terry leaned back into the couch, "What about Party Rock?"

"Oh, I will crush you," I smirked at him.

"Bring it, Wayne," he mocked yelled at me as he jumped to his feet, slapping his palms against his chest.

After selecting the song for challenge mode, I stood as well, moving to stand in front of the coffee table for more room to move. It was one of the few games that I enjoyed letting him win, namely because it encouraged him to perform the ridiculous dance moves to perfection. Back in October, I had a few friends over for the night and he had bested all of us to a roar of applause.

We kept threatening to video him and put it on the internet but any time he even saw a camera he wouldn't get up from the couch.

The second the bass came over the surround sound, we both started shaking our hips in beat with the music, ready with baited breath for the first move. With perfect timing, we faded our right arms to the right, then our left to the left. Repeating the move, I decided the only way to off set Terry would be for me to sing. Extremely off key.

As the next movement came up, I belted, "Party rock is in the house tonight, everybody just have a good time! And we're gonna make you lose your mind, everybody just have a good time!"

He started to laugh, "Stop it, you're cheating."

"Ends justify the means, Miller."

I was just one hundred points ahead of him when alarms sounded in the hallway. Terry stood still as he asked, "What's that?"

Even though I knew the answer, I replied, "I don't know…" Moving out of the sitting room and into the bedroom, Terry followed me, hopefully believing me when I said, "Dad must be cooking."

"Then we better evacu- whoa!" he exclaimed as the power gave out, leaving us in utter darkness.

"The generators should kick on in a little bit… Mom said that accident was pretty bad, maybe it knocked the power lines over or something…" I moved closer to my bedroom door, reaching out while simultaneously grabbing Terry's hand as to not leave him swimming alone in the black.

He sighed with relief, "Found my cell, here…" he turned it on, offering a bit of blue light to spread between us. I took it and tried to dial my father's cell but it said that there was no signal. Terry looked genuinely scared as I handed it back to him but I hoped that I was able to convey some sort of calmness and reassurance.

We both went still and silent upon hearing my father, "Mattie!"

Finding the knob as quickly as possible, I turned it and pulled back just as Dad was about to pound on it with the heel of his fist. I could barely make out the outline of his form until Terry moved his phone. The look on my father's face was intense, something I had never seen before save for the training videos he had recorded on the crays. His eyes were electric, not even looking the remotest bit shocked to see Terry with me.

"We have to go, now."

"What's going on, Dad?" I asked as he ushered us into the hallway.

"Run downstairs… all of the way, Mattie."

I nodded, the uneasiness washing over me causing me to grip Terry's hand harder than he had been holding mine. Before taking off, I asked, "How are you going to get downstairs with the power out?

"Don't worry about me…" he leaned forward and kissed my forehead, "Just go."

With Terry paving a pathway with his cell phone, we took off towards the stairwell. I looked back twice to see Dad moving as quickly as he could. Being tugged onward, I complied, especially upon hearing Alfred's voice echoing from down below, "Miss Mattie? Master Bruce?"

As quickly as possible, we raced down the three flights of steps, nearly crashing into Alfred and Leslie as they stood at the bottom. My heart was pounding in my chest, not from the physical activity but the uncertain fear that had taken hold of every fiber of my being. Alarms, power outages, something blocking phone reception…

The look on my father's face.

Something was wrong, something was very wrong.

Upon seeing us, Alfred asked where my father was and I instinctively looked upwards, "He's on his way down…"

On cue, my father's voice bellowed from up high, "Take them to the vault!"

"Come now, quickly children," Alfred showed no hesitation in guiding us forward, Leslie not a single step behind us. Neither uttered a word as we navigated to the study, pausing only after hearing a sharp bang and shattering glass. A shriek sounded and it took a moment to realize that it had been from me.

"Go," Alfred said calmly, "Lock yourselves in the vault, press the yellow button on the inside of the door."

"Alfred, no," Leslie reached out for his arm, "Don't."

Faint shouts sounded, and I wasn't certain how I felt that none of them sounded like my father.

"I'm afraid I must," the light casting an eerie shadow over his worried face, "Now go."

When he disappeared, I grabbed onto Leslie, "What's going on?"

"I wish I knew…" was her response. Reaching the grandfather clock, she activated the unlocking sequence and ushered us inside, her hands shaking the entire time. My mind was racing, no longer capable of maintaining a calm exterior. Leslie's voice was the only giveaway that something was amiss, lacking that warmth that allows came with every word.

Still holding on to Terry, I led him through the entrance, "There are steps ahead…"

"Where are we going, a safe room?"

I paused to look back at him, "Something like that."

Leslie was just about to follow us into the Cave when a gunshot sounded, followed by someone calling out, "No!"

Terry's breath jumped, his voice painfully scared, "Was that a gun?"

Ignoring him, I watched as Leslie's gaze turned back towards the study. Her pacifist ways had only brought violence to her life, to those she loved. But even though she didn't condone those methods, she never seemed to be one to stand idly by while they were practiced.

"Leslie?" I called out as she stepped back through the entrance.

"Go, Mattie… everything will be fine," her words were meant to be reassuring but they lacked conviction.

When the door closed behind her, I shouted her name again but there was no response. I found dark thoughts crossing my mind, wondering if that was the last time I would ever see my Family. It was then that I reverted back to my early lessons with my father over the summer. How weaknesses didn't save people, and that a hero did not feel fear, it used it as a tool, as a source of energy…

"Come on, let's go," I said, my voice growing steady. I led the way down the stairs, making sure to keep up a good pace but taking into consideration that Terry had never traversed the uneven steps. Reaching the bottom, I quickly showed him the way across the dark main floor, climbing the short stairs to the costume vault. The saving grace of the situation was that with the power being out, Terry had not seen a single thing that was in the Cave.

One less thing to worry about.

I called out Dick and Tim's names but the only signs of life in the Cave were the bats shrieking from above, their wings flapping as they prepared to score the subterranean coves for food. Telling Terry to stand by me, I let go of his hand and unlocked the costume vault, pulling hard with both hands in order to open the titanium door. To that point, we had relied on his phone as a source of light but if I allowed him to shine it on the contents of the small room…

"Can I see your phone?" I asked as he stepped in after me. Thankfully, he readily handed it over, his hand shaking visibly. I pretended to use it in order to find the yellow button on the inside panel on the door, of which activated countermeasures against anyone or thing that tried to open the vault.

In summary, anyone who grabbed the handle or door would be electrocuted and gassed at the same time. Any device that was attached to the hinges in an attempt to blow it up would be covered in epoxy and rendered useless. There was a fire control system if it was set ablaze, warming mechanisms if it was frozen and it's own ventilation system and battery power source.

Securely inside, I grabbed Terry's hand and led him towards the back of the vault, guiding him to sit on the bench along the far wall. Once I was beside him, I tried to think that five minutes earlier we had been sitting on the couch fighting over what song to dance to. I thought about kissing him, holding his hand on the ride home, beating him at Words during study hall.

Anything to get the look of my father's face out of my mind, the echo of the gunshot out of my ears.

Minutes later, the hum of electricity sounded, quickly followed by the rush of air through the vents and then finally, the flicker of the lights coming back to life.

Oh, no.

"Mattie…" Terry's voice was barely a whisper. His eyes were wide, no longer out of fear but in awe.

"Yeah?"

"Is there… a reason your dad has a panic room full of Batman stuff?"

I exhaled slowly before starting with, "Yes… there is a reason."

^V^

I had promised Master Bruce's parents that I would always stand by his side, no matter what.

Even though they had not lived to see the greatness he had achieved and the tragedies he had endured, I had kept my vow. I had supported him, healed him, consoled him and protected him as best I could. Difficult as it may have been at times, my actions had always been reflective of my bond, to first and foremost do right by their only child. A man grown, capable of tending to his own troubles, I had held fast to my words, every pain he endured felt tenfold on my soul.

Learning of pain he had endured years earlier without my ever knowing had caused an invisible blade to strike deep into my chest.

We had nearly lost Master Nathan in birth, his arrival to the world coming two months premature. The boy had spent his first eight weeks of life in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, doctors and nurses trying to prepare his fragile body for life outside of the hospital. His second born child and first biological son, I had bore witness to Master Bruce reaching new emotional lows. He had been able to maintain his composure around members of the Family, but often had let the façade falter in my presence.

At the time, I had assumed it had been simply the fear of losing the child he had grown to love without ever knowing.

Having heard Master Bruce utter the fact that he had already suffered a similar event just over a decade prior to Master Nathan's birth, it was apparent that he very well may have also relived his own piece of personal hell, magnified infinitely.

"Like I said," his tone was painful, "Selina wants an answer she doesn't want to hear."

Although it took a moment to recover, I found my voice, "It is not up to you to decide what she desires to know, sir… but what she deserves to know."

I watched as he closed his eyes, nostrils flaring slightly as he forced air through them slowly. While contemplated, I studied the tired features of his face, the morning light highlighting every line, every mark and every gray hair on his head, all having resulted from some heartache. Some pain I had been unable to spare him.

A long, silent moment passed before he spoke, "She deserves better."

Moving to stand before him, I waited until Master Bruce looked up at me, then said, "Then give her better, sir."

He nodded, his eyes fixing themselves to the window once more.

Knowing he was most capable of finding resolutions when he was alone with his thoughts, I left Master Bruce for the remainder of the morning. Given Ms. Talia's penchant for barely touching her meals, I decided that not providing a midday lunch was worth allowing Master Bruce to regroup without interruption. As long as all went according to plan, Master Tim would have her relocated to the Watchtower by day's end. Her absence would allow for whatever healing was needed to commence, in addition to removing one less burden on my troubled charge's mind.

Having called Master Dick earlier in the day to arrange for the children to be brought home from school, I was allowed a certain degree of freedom in the afternoon. Once the daily tasks within the Manor had been tended to, I was able to tackle a few items of importance in the Cave. The laboratory, medical bay and training area were all overdue for a thorough scrubbing. With the aide of Nolvasan disinfectant solution, dry mops and a determination to dominate the seemingly endless battle with the bats above, I managed to have the sectors spotless by noon.

It was as I was taking an overdue inventory of supplies that I heard the elevator doors open, revealing Master Bruce slowly walking across the cavern floor. He seemingly ignored me as he fought his way up the small set of stairs to the computer bay, sighing once he took his seat before the control panel. Rather than immediately go to him, I decided to continue with my task, making a list of necessary orders for Lactated Ringer's solution IV bags, sterile chemical filter paper and fluorescent latent print powder.

Before joining him on the raised tier, I studied from afar as he alternated between numerous windows on the display. Naturally, the surveillance footage of Talia was in the upper right hand corner, with news feeds covering the previous night's escapades partially covered by a lengthy document. Since learning of Master Jason's remains being removed without his knowing, he had seemed desperate to try and pinpoint the circumstances, even beyond what Ms. Talia had confessed to.

As my first footfall sounded on the metal step, there was a momentary pause in the clattering of keys from above. He resumed his work, although I noticed he made the effort to rearrange the items on the screen as quickly as possible. Ignoring the act, I cleared my throat before offering, "Would you care for lunch, Master Bruce?"

He kept his focus on his work, replying with a curt, "No."

"Very good, sir… Master Dick will pick the children up from school as I plan to retrieve Dr. Thompkins at a somewhat decent hour."

"That's fine," he noted, his mind entirely preoccupied with his work.

"And I believe Master Tim will be returning this afternoon to tend to some vigilante work."

He continued to try to ignore my words, bringing up a satellite tracking program, little white and blue dots traveling slowly over a large map of the world.

While he tried to hack into the orbiting devices, I bid him farewell and left him alone once more. When he his mind was in a state of unrest, it was difficult for him to focus on his work. The time he had spent alone, debating his options and preparing to face his wife once more, it seemed as if he had reached a solution, albeit an untested one. Mental harmony achieved, he was more than capable of monitoring Ms. Talia, hacking into government satellite footage and ignoring my offers.

With a sigh of relief, I rode the elevator to the main floor, my watch putting the time to be just after two. Even with the haggard hour commute into the city, I would still have arrived too early at the Free Clinic. The ritual of driving her in and out of Gotham each day had been instilled as to keep her from riding the overcrowded trains and battle with numerous transfers. Hindsight, it also provided us with two uninterrupted hours alone together, where we were able to freely voice our thoughts and share our concerns.

Something we had lost in leaving Africa behind…

In order to waste a bit of time before departing, I rotated the wash, finished tidying up on the third floor and put fresh linens in all three of the bedrooms. From there, I made my way to my quarters briefly, freshening up and changing into a clean shirt and sweater. Retrieving my coat, leather gloves and flat cap, I then proceeded to the ground floor, nearly making it to the service entrance when the house phone rang.

Removing my gloves, I answered, "Wayne residence."

"Alfred, it's Lucius."

"Ah, how are we fairing, Mr. Fox?"

"Not great…" he sighed before asking, "Was Bruce planning on coming in at all today?"

Having spent a lifetime forging excuses from thin air, I responded, "I am afraid not, Mr. Fox. After the duress he endured last week, he is, in a sense, indisposed."

"Is he all right?"

I reassured him, "Nothing that rest won't mend. His physician has asked that he endure at least another day in bed in order to recuperate."

"Damnit… we were supposed to spend this afternoon preparing for tomorrow's foundation meeting… recount last week's activities… Well, if he is up to it, have him give me a call later. I'll see what he wants to add to what we already have."

"Will do, Mr. Fox."

"Thanks, Alfred… and take care of him."

"As always, sir," I replied before hanging the telephone up on the wall mounted cradle.

Backtracking to the study, I returned to the Cave in order to deliver the message. However, I paused halfway down the stairs upon seeing that Master Bruce and Master Tim were discussing most pertinent of matters. Deciding that Mr. Fox's desire to have his call returned could wait, I navigated back up the study and into the corridor. Rather than call ahead to inform Leslie I was en route, I decided to surprise her, in more than one sense.

The florist in Bristol charged outrageous fees, but the cost justified the arrangements she was bale to procure. I selected a wintry bouquet of white Gerber daisies, snow colored roses and peonies nestled in geranium leaves. The aroma of the flowers kept me company for the duration of the ride, as did horn honks from fellow motorists and the first Christmas songs of the season emerging on the radio.

When I made it into the East End, the streets were easier to travel down as traffic grew sparse and buses replaced speeding taxi cabs. Parking in the rear of the Free Clinic, I chose to walk around to the front of the building in order to enter through the lobby. AS expected, the benches were filled with waiting patients, the small play area crowded with tired children. I offered warm smiles to all, even tipping my hat to a particularly adorable four year old girl, her dark hair in tightly braided pigtails.

Reaching the front desk, I recognized the triage nurse to be Michael, a former med student that had switched careers after deciding that compassionate care was his calling and not surgical residency. He had been with Leslie since before the earthquake that had struck down the city of Gotham so many years earlier. His unbeatable bedside manner and sincere desire to help others had made him an instant asset to the Free Clinic.

He greeted me with a smirk, "Nice flowers, Alfred, you shouldn't have."

I smirked, "Dare I ask if she is available?"

"Actually," he scanned the computer before him screen briefly, "She's just wrapping up a suture removal… come on back," he added before unlocking the entrance into the actual clinic. Regrettably, the struggling neighborhood had required additional safety measures to be added over the years in order to protect not only the pharmacy and supplies, but the patients themselves. So many ended up on Leslie's gurneys as a result of gang affiliated violence that she finally had to put up the barrier to keep the peace.

Thanking Michael, I made my way towards her office, at the very least hoping to set the flowers up in a vase before her arrival. As it happened, I nearly ran into her as she exited an exam room, her attention on the chart in her hands and mine on the flowers in my grasp. Even still, she looked up and smiled, "What are you doing here?"

"Wishful thinking, my dear," I nodded slightly.

"Nearly done, I promise… here, let me drop this off out front, I'll meet you in my office."

I had enough time to fetch a vase from the break room, wash it and fill it with fresh water as well as trim the stems of the flowers and arrange them before she made an appearance. She shut the door behind her before yawning softly, "Sorry, figured I would take care of my last appointment of the day first. Dreaded vaccines for a very sad Sophia."

"No doubt she left smiling," I offered, resisting the urge to tidy her desk as she shed her white coat and stethoscope.

After hanging them on the hook secured to the back of her office door, Leslie approached her desk, bowed and inhaled the scent of the sweet flowers. Standing upright, she asked, "What's the occasion?"

"I must confess… it is a bribe of sorts."

"To go home early."

I acted surprised and responded with, "Madam, I haven't the foggiest-."

Leslie cut me off, wagging her finger in my direction, "Don't even start with your foggiest, old man." Shaking her head, Leslie looked over her cluttered desk before glancing back up at me, "I'll make you a deal. Let me finish charts from today, then we can go."

"Is there anything I can assist you in?"

"Yes… go break the news to Michael that I'm leaving early."

She managed to wrap up her notes and prepare charts to be filed by quarter after four. Before leaving, she agreed to see one last patient for the day, a young man who had dislocated his shoulder after being shoved down the stairs by his older brother. I had stood outside in the hallway with the offensive sibling while Leslie and her team put the poor brother back together. The screams of pain subsided as narcotics took effect, but the sound of bone being forced back into socket still traveled through the partially ajar door.

It caused the teenaged boy at my side to visibly flinch and audibly gasp in shared pain.

"There, there, lad," I offered, "At least there will be the immobilization period for his arm before he can exact revenge."

Finally leaving the Free Clinic, we regrettably wove our way directly into afternoon traffic. Aiming my sights on the nearest parkway, I offered my ears as she rehashed her day. I was pleased to hear it hadn't been too trying or difficult, a day without great tragedies that drained her of her energy and life. Finally reaching St. James and crossing over the Westward Bridge, she asked, "How is everyone?"

I spent the remainder of the trip replaying the day's events, sparing her no detail of the emotional hold that had seized our eldest. She listened intently, keeping her questions limited and brief. In summation, I also informed her that Master Bruce knew the manner in which he had to make it up to his wife, but was simply biding time until her return from the Preserve in order to put it into practice.

She did not seem surprised when I told her of his transgressions, of his lies regarding Ms. Talia's former role in his life along with the child they had nearly brought into the world.

What had her worried was that he had kept it from us, from the entire Family, for so long.

Reaching the wrought iron gates, I depressed the remote control that allowed us to enter without being rained upon by rubber bullets and fast drying epoxy. As I guided the Lincoln up the dark driveway, she finally said, "How is he coping… with this coming to light?"

"Well enough, I suppose… He seemed quite emotional this morning, but after a few hours alone, he seemed to be in a better place this afternoon."

"I hope so…" she sighed as we pulled up behind the garage.

Stepping into the great house, I found a note from Ms. Selina on the counter, declaring that she was picking up dinner with Master Nathan. In all of the turmoil of the day, I had planned on a simple meal of baked ziti but she had taken even the meager responsibility off of my plate. I waited for Leslie to join me in the kitchen, smirking to see she had removed her sneakers in order to walk in sock clad feet.

We barely made it into the corridor when alarms sounded, echoing loudly and giving my heart reason to skip a few beats. I wanted to blame the calamity on my not entering the security code on the panel just inside the door, but I had instinctively tended to it first thing. When the lights gave out a moment later, I realized that my old mind was not to blame at all.

"Alfred…" she gasped loudly, reaching out for my arm.

I latched onto it, quickly guiding her towards the stairwell, "Quickly, Leslie…" Not a moment later, we were at the base of the great steps, the patter of footfalls approaching in the darkness along with a faint glow. I called out, "Master Bruce? Miss Mattie!"

Miss Mattie appeared a moment later, surprisingly on the arm of her teenaged beau. I did my best to hide the fear in my voice, "Where is your father?"

In the faint light, I watched as she looked back up the stairs, "He's on his way down…"

Suddenly, Master Bruce's voice boomed nearly as loud as the alarms had, "Take them to the vault!"

As a precautionary measure, the vault was outfitted with countermeasures to keep not only the inanimate objects safe from any threat, but it could also house and shelter up to ten adults comfortably, fifteen with reduced elbow room. In the event of an emergency, it was the safest place on the property, especially for children who had no means of defending themselves. And with the power not coming back on and the generators malfunctioning, it certainly qualified as an emergency.

Not waiting for his arrival, I took Miss Mattie and Master Terry away from the stairs and down the hall, blindly making our way towards the study. Without warning, an explosion ripped through the dark air, followed by the music of shattering glass that even my aged ears were capable of hearing. The small group before me froze in their tracks, Miss Mattie allowing a sharp cry escape from her lips.

I had promised his parents to watch over him…

As calmly as possible, I spoke, "Go. Lock yourselves in the vault, press the yellow button on the inside of the door."

"Alfred, no," Leslie reached out for my arm, gripping it tightly, "Don't."

Faint shouts sounded in the distance, the crash of something heavy and wooden.

I had promised this parents…

"I'm afraid I must… Now go."

As quickly as my feet would allow, I raced back towards the rear of the house. The sound seemed to have originated from the terrace doors, a fairly easy access point if the security system was compromised with complete electrical failure. On my way to do what I had vowed to, I found the only useful means of defense was a European broadsword from the 1800's. Smashing the display case, I latched onto the heavy iron blade and muttered an apology to the curator that had placed it so delicately in a bed of silks.

Granted with a relatively bright moon, the light casting into the open sitting area offered some illumination. The white light reflected off of the countless shards of glass, even through the smoky haze. I made out silhouettes moving forward and back, some falling to the ground and remaining motionless. As the smoke cleared, I caught a glimpse of Master Nathan's canine companion with his massive jaws securely ripping at the upper arm of some poor sap. Nearby, I spotted Master Bruce, a vicious sneer on his face as he drove his palm into the throat of his dark garbed assailant, sending the man flying backwards.

The next figure lurched at him, attempting to strike at his left leg but was met swiftly with Master Bruce's elbow in a powerful temple strike, followed by a solid hit from his fist to the man's exposed ear. The black garbed man tried to recover but by the time he swung back around at Master Bruce but it was too late. My charge had already prepared for the coming blow and ducked, driving a broad shoulder into the man's abdomen, heaving him into the air and headfirst into the wall.

One of the casualties rose to his feet, willing to take advantage of Master Bruce's divided attention. I stepped forward and swung hard, the dull blade hitting him square in the side of the head and sending him limply back to the ground.

Master Bruce looked to me suddenly, seeming to be struggling for his breath. There were six men on the ground writhing, five of which were his to claim. I was about to tell him that he still had the innate ability to cause as much harm to as many evil doers in a timely manner when I heard a boot crunching on glass.

Time slowed as I spun my head around, ready with the blade, if necessary.

In the shattered remains of the French doors stood nearly a dozen men, dressed in the same dark clothing as their indisposed colleagues. Among them was a man whose uniform was slightly different. Where their masks were black, his was stark red.

Where they were charging towards Master Bruce, he set his sights on me, along with the aim of a SIG Sauer.

Before he pulled the trigger, I heard Master Bruce scream, "Noooo!"

^V^

While Alfred was being gunned down in front of me, I was being charged at by five men, each of whom were half my age and had their whole, sinister lives ahead of them.

Having made it down three flights of stairs, my body had already started to rebel long before I had encountered the group invading my home. My pulse had been throbbing nearly as loudly as the pain in my left leg. With Alfred and Leslie securing Mattie and Terry, I had one less worry clouding over my mind. I had called out for Ace, having no idea where the big sable dog was. Hearing him before seeing his outline loping down the corridor appeared, I had been somewhat relieved when he immediately looked up to me, ready.

"Good boy," I had been panting louder than he had.

Every step after the stairs had been a struggle, but I had still moved as quickly as possible to the rear of the house. The dog had been right at my side, the tags of his collar jingling but the sound of his padded feet hitting the carpet barely audible.

Before the system had gone offline, the last sensors tripped had been located on the rear terrace. Making my way to the back of the Manor, I had to fight back memories of countless Family dinners and birthday parties. We had been just shy of ten yards from the rear sitting area when an explosion had ripped apart the hand carved French doors, raining down glass and shards of wood. The same doors Mattie and Nathan had decorated with decals for nearly every holiday…

With Dick already suited up and off for solo patrols and Tim and Cassandra essentially trapped on the Watchtower without an activated teleporter to return to, my only back up had been Ace. Furthermore, I had to convince myself that my leg had no longer been crippled, my brain no longer addled. That I had been capable of defending my home, my Family.

Six men dressed in black from head to toe had stormed in, unarmed because there had been no need for weapons. It had been easy to identify them as belonging to Ra's al Ghul, their uncanny stealth, disciplined movements and utter silent communication standing out. Having fought his foot soldiers for two decades, I had been well aware of what their training regimens included, and what they had not.

Given the age of their leader and his penchant for tradition, they had all been required to master various ancient combat styles, ranging from Wudang Kung Fu to Hapkido. Centuries of combat training had resulted in the League of Assassins being one of the most formidable unknown forces of the world. They had always struck with deadly force and deadlier stealth, leaving behind no trail to follow, just victims.

They had been masters of their craft.

I had been the master of mine.

Once upon a time…

Ace had launched himself at the first unsuspecting target, ripping him down to the ground with angry growls and ninety-three pounds of powerful German Shepherd muscle. I had used the distraction to my advantage, moving through the smoke and taking out the nearest subject with a direct blow to the back of the head. Although mentally it had been easy to ascertain which strike to deliver and when, it had been difficult to get my body to perform the tasks. Ace barked loudly, yelped then resumed growling, drawing a quiet curse from the being in his grasp. I tried to locate him in the haze but was unable to.

Without the aide of weaponry, it still should have been relatively simple to take them out systematically, especially with the smoke filled air acting as cover. And yet every hit I delivered had caused a shock to ride up my arm, every ounce of energy I had used was not replenished with the following drag of oxygen. There had only been six figures in the dimly lit room but it had taken my all to send five of them to the ground.

A sick sound of metal on bone had caused me to spin about, just in time to see the sixth man fall in a heap with Alfred lowering a black iron broadsword.

We had looked to one another in the moment before the next wave had arrived, ten men with black masks, one with red…

He was taller and broader than his compatriots, standing with an unnerving calmness as he raised a black plated semi-automatic handgun and pulled the trigger without hesitation.

"Noooo!" I screamed as Alfred stumbled two steps back before falling to the ground.

When I bolted towards him, I was intercepted by the next group of men, determined that I not advance a single step. Unable to go to his side, I fought back fiercely and without remorse, digging at eyes, crunching teeth, snapping bones in ways that would never heal. Ace flashed by in the corner of my eye but when the man in red raised his weapon at the dog, I called out, "Hier!"

Thankfully, when the second bullet fired, Ace was out of the way and racing back to me. In the mist of my brawling, I pointed to the corridor and yelled at him, "Voraus!" He hesitated until I called out again, then reluctantly retreated down the hall. As much of an asset as he was in a fight, there was no sense in having my son's dog senselessly killed.

Out of the corner of my eye, I spotted the man in the red mask casually walking across the atrium. Although foolish, I allowed my attention to focus on him momentarily as he crouched beside Alfred's still form, reaching out a gloved hand in order to check for a pulse. A vicious hit to my left kidney reminded me that I had to keep my focus elsewhere.

The red masked man stood upright, wiped his glove on the front of his dark jacket before looking in my direction. He stepped over Alfred's outstretched arm as if it had been nothing more than a crack in the sidewalk. I tried to ignore his leisurely advance, anything to keep the painful jabs and blows at bay.

_Alfred…_

Rage bubbled up inside me, fueling me to continue taking down the men surrounding me with unrelenting blows to the face, chest and head. The next wave was ready when those before them fell, receiving them same strikes but not seeming to be as affected by my efforts. It was as my chest grew tight and my breaths came in fiery pants that my mind rationalized that I was in no condition to fight one man let alone a dozen members of the League of Assassins.

_Still, Alfred is too still…_

They started getting in lucky hits, seeming to know where my weakest points were. A roundhouse to the back of my head drove me forward into another's heel kick to my knee. Growling, I desperately recovered, latching on to the next limb that came in my direction and twisting it until it snapped. Before I was able to let him go to move on to the next one, the man in the red mask whistled lowly.

_I've already watched one father die…_

At once, the men stepped away, bowing their heads in silence. Rather than proceeding to toss me around like schoolyard bullies, they began to check on their fallen comrades, helping them to their feet. Through it all, no shouts, no words, no yelps of pain, not even a whisper.

It took what was left of my self-control to keep from crying out in agony.

No longer able to tolerate the inferno in my chest and the stabbing pain in my leg, I found myself taking a few unsteady steps backwards, barely regaining my balance as he approached me. Finally, I spoke, my voice lacking any form of intimidation, "What do you want?"

Tilting his head to the left, he sighed quietly, the epitome of calm.

Without warning, he embedded the heel of his hand directly into my sternum with enough force to knock me off of my feet. Colliding with the wall first, I then landed on the floor, unable to inhale or exhale. As the initial shock of the blow dissolved, he strode towards me, continuing to appraise me silently. Before I could roll out of the way or force my arms to rise and counter the oncoming blow, he stomped down on my left knee with lightning speed and comparable force.

Coincidentally enough, it brought air back into my lungs, only to have it exhaled in a painful cry.

Rising to my hands and knees, I tried to regain control of my body but his reinforced toe slammed me hard in the left temple, sending my world spinning. Falling flat on the carpet, my first thought was not that every fiber of my being was in pain, but that Alfred was in my direct line of sight. A pool of blood reflected in the moonlight, his form completely motionless.

_Alfred…_

My focus was brought back to the man in the red mask when he finally made a sound other than the whistle he had used to call off his men. "Bruce… you look terrible…" he said, his rough baritone muffled by the mask covering his lips.

There was a soft sound on the other side of the room, barely detectable over the crunching of my ribs and the thunderous pulse at my temples. Alfred's fingernail tapping on the broadsword that lay beside him.

_Alive, he was alive…_

The man in the red mask proceeded to glance around the room, ascertaining the extent of the damage I had brought upon his men, "I wasn't expecting such a fight from you. I have to admit… it is good to see you have a little life left in those crippled bones of yours."

Morse code.

_Alive. Shot. Under collar bone…._

He followed my gaze and sighed, "Poor old Alfred… always willing to serve… no matter what the cost." After he crouched beside me, I looked up to see the black lenses covering his eyes showing small, painful reflections of my face, "Don't blame yourself… you certainly seemed willing to fight to protect him… the ones you love… the ones you care about so much…"

Although he went through the motion of unmasking himself, it was unnecessary. I knew from the second he passed through the doorway what face was hidden behind the blood colored Lycra. The dark blue-green eyes that had always yielded too much mischief. Chaotic auburn hair that I had forced him to dye black as to not have him stand out…

"Which is funny, since you didn't do a damn thing to save me," Jason Todd, seventeen years after I had buried him, stared down at me with a scowl, "Not a damn thing."

With blood on my palate and my lungs refusing to cooperate, I still managed to growl his name, "Jason."

"Ah, you remember me… good," he smirked for a moment before adding, "That makes this all worth the trouble, then."

"Makes what worth it?" I fought to ask.

His eyes narrowed before he answered, "Taking everything away from you. Making your life the hell it was meant to be. I can check Alfred off of the list…"

I locked my jaw briefly, collecting blood and saliva before spitting it directly in his face.

Jason laughed as he wiped it way from his cheek, "That's a shame," he rose to his feet, "A real shame…"

With equal speed and force, Jason proceeded to repeatedly slam the toe of his boot into my abdomen, his smile growing with every blow. After an eternity of agony, he ceased his assault, bending at the waist in order to stare down at me as I coughed and gasped. He was about to threaten me further when he paused, turning to face the corridor with a faint look of surprise on his face. I did my best to move my head around, uncertain as to whether or not the image of Leslie approaching was real or a hallucination.

"Leave him alone!" she shouted as two men seized her by the arms.

As one backhanded her hard enough to send her to the carpet, Jason snapped, "No!" He stormed towards them, grabbing the man that had struck her down. The other had instinctively stepped back, bowing his head. Jason slammed his brow into the masked man's nose, the crunch sounding loud enough for me to hear.

"We need her, you fool!" Jason shoved the insubordinate away.

"My apologies, sire…" the man's words were painful and wet.

"Your apologies are worthless…" Jason growled lowly as he set his sights on Leslie. She had crawled over to Alfred, already pressing her palms into the bleeding wound below his collarbone. Jason studied her briefly before grabbing her upper arm, dragging her back to her feet. She tried to protest, but Jason was twice her size, overpowering her without effort.

Leslie stumbled to her knees in front of me, her eyes were glassy with emotion but her face was miraculously calm. As she stared down at me, I found myself wondering if Mattie and Terry had made it to the vault, and that her hands were warm and sticky with Alfred's blood. I barely heard her as she whispered, "I'm here… everything's going to be all right."

My vision began to blur over, my hearing faded and wave after wave of lightheadedness washed over me.

My last conscious thought was, _No… not now…_

^V^

After seventeen years, seven days had raced by in a heartbeat.

Prior to leaving for the United States a week earlier, Ra's had stood by while I packed up in the armory. Although he had spent the better part of the summer finalizing his plans and picking apart the timing and the details, essentially nothing had changed in the weeks leading into November. The highly publicized family efforts the week of Thanksgiving had fallen perfectly into line, distracting the targets and opening the window of opportunity for my team and I to walk right through.

In the hours leading up to our departure, Ra's had hunted me down, interrupting as I had been quietly packing my belongings and mentally preparing myself for the trek. Body armor I had worn hundreds of times, titanium escrima sticks that bore scratches from a decade of use along with back up semi-automatics, blades sharp enough to peel the epidermis away from someone's skin and my most prized possession…

"We've been over this a thousand times," I had sighed while disassembling my SIG Sauer.

He had growled, "And for your benefit, we will go over it again. There can be no mistakes, not at this point."

Swallowing my pride, I had nodded, "I'm sorry. Continue."

While I had proceeded to brush out the barrel, Ra's had carried on, "Talia has already entered the city limits… with the Detective and his followers preoccupied with charitable efforts, it will be relatively easy for her to install the interference mechanisms on the generators and security lines. She will wait until the opportune moment to make herself known… And then you will wait for her sign before acting. Is that understood?"

"Yes, sire."

He had paused before saying, "From there, you will apprehend the Detective… alive."

A scowl had seized hold of my lips as I replied, "Yes, sire."

"If the doctor is on the grounds at the time you seize him, you will also take her into custody. It will befit us to have her care for him during travel."

Nodding, I had tried to focus on inspecting the magazine chamber but my thoughts had drifted back to the last time I had seen Leslie Thompkins. If my memory had served me correctly, it was in the sitting room with Alfred, sharing tea on a Sunday afternoon. Not two weeks before I had left for Iraq to hunt down my mother…

Before going down to train in the Cave, I had popped my head in, begging lemon cakes from them…

"_Can I have two?"_

"_One for now… and… one for later, Master Jason…"_

A lifetime ago.

Ra's had brought me back to the present with, "The two most powerful warriors are patience and time."

I had looked to him, smirked and asked, "Aristotle?"

He had sighed, "Tolstoy."

"Russian Ghandi, you mean," I had returned my focus to the gun barrel in my hand.

"Your jesting towards the great minds suggests jealousy," Ra's had replied, "Perhaps one day you will heed their words instead of mock them."

Using a cloth to remove debris and bits of carbon from the interior of the magazine, I had nodded, holding my tongue. My mouth had never learned to keep itself in check, often saying the wrong thing at the equally wrong moment. As highly as Ra's held the great thinkers, I had no time for his historical lectures and symbolic references. I had always preferred those who acted rather than shared their intentions to.

William the Conquerer, born a bastard but raised the London Tower with a crown on his head.

Alexander, who had dominated half of the known world before he turned thirty.

Atilla, seizing hold of the Roman Empire with a smile on his face.

Ra's had always pointed out that my idols had met untimely demises and that following in their footsteps would also take me to their fates. In return, I had always countered that the purpose of studying history was to learn from the mistakes of others. He had always smirked at such wise yet blatantly brash remarks. There were times that my arrogance had acted in my favor, fortunately more so than the times that it had not.

We had worked alongside one another for over a decade, but there was no forgetting the first tumultuous years I had spent learning to live under his rule. I had quickly learned that although he was the nemesis of my former mentor, they lived by very similar morals, Ra's merely taking things to an extreme that Bruce had never been brave enough to. A rocky start would have been an understatement. Floggings, deprivation tanks, isolation cells, hard labor with no food or water or rest for twenty-four hours… and that was simply for talking back or not following orders.

Ra's had always made his lessons as clear as crystal: obey or pay.

But with the pain, there had been insurmountable gain. I had trained with the world's finest in combat, weaponry and sharp shooting. The skills I had learned as a boy had been a foundation for all that I had learned under Ra's and the League. Starting at the age of eighteen, I had successfully completed every mission I had been assigned to. By twenty-one, I was leading teams into the field as well as handling single-man operations. I had defeated every single one of Ra's' bodyguards in unarmed combat by twenty-three, earning the right to be in his presence without them.

My life belonged to Ra's, something I would never forget, nor take for granted. He had given me wealth, knowledge and power, not to mention his loyalty and support.

Bruce had let me die.

Ra's had given me life.

And after months of planning, years of waiting, the time had come.

To return.

For nearly two decades, I had waited. When I had felt that I had earned to right to make proposals to Ra's, the top of my list had been to return to my former home in order to punish my former mentor. After a moment of pondering, Ra's had asked why.

"He left me for dead… a child… he should have done something!" I had growled.

Nodding, Ra's had replied, "He is but one man. One man alone can not save all that he loves… Of which is a recurring theme in the Detective's life. It is not as a savior, but a life as a martyr. Whether he sacrifices himself or others."

The next time I had brought the subject up to Ra's, I had approached it with a clearer mind. I had been twenty-five, fresh from a string of successful treks to Africa to secure bases of operation and to take down a destructive ban of rebels that had been burning bountiful fields purposelessly. Breeching the matter, I had pointed out that Bruce had let my killer live, his punishment being a mere chemically induced coma.

"That monster is going to spend the rest of his days in comfort when he should be in agony every waking second."

"Then go to America… kill the Joker."

"That's not the point, Ra's," I had snapped back.

"The point is that you loathe the Detective because he did not do something that is not his nature to do," Ra's had glared at me from over his chess board, "Am I wrong?"

It had taken another six years to bring it up again.

With the Joker escaping Arkham Asylum and bringing the city of Gotham to its knees, I had been compelled to monitor ever detail I could get my hands on. I had studied every word to appear on screen, every video clip, every sound bite. The ever-vigilant Batman had let hundreds die before taking him down at the end of two months of terror.

Interestingly enough, the same night the Joker was taken back into custody, Bruce Wayne was admitted to Mercy General Hospital, a victim of a mugging turned deadly.

I had suspected that he had long since handed over the cowl to one of his stooges, especially when Bruce Wayne had knee replacements, starting showing up to board meetings regularly and made time for his children. Ra's had always discouraged my following those in my former life so closely. but I had been unable to forgive let alone forget. And despite the years and miles that had separated us, it had been easy to figure out that a mere mugging hadn't put Bruce in the ICU. The circumstances were entirely hypothetical, but I was certain that they revolved around Bruce putting the cowl back on one last time.

Putting the barrel back into the slide of the gun, I had looked to Ra's and said, "The only words I need to heed are yours."

He had smirked, turned to leave the armory as he reminded me, "Alive, Jason. I need him alive."

Before answering Ra's, I had pushed the down onto the front of the gun's frame rail, pulling back and letting the slide release itself, "Alive it is."

Obey or pay.

Entering the United States had been far easier than expected. We had landed in Metropolis, their international airport welcoming us with wide arms and warm smiles. From there, we had secured housing and transportation up the coast, keeping a safe and unsuspecting distance from Gotham. As instructed, we waited for word form Talia before proceeding a single inch closer to our target. Finally on late Wednesday evening, her digital code appeared on my mobile device, bringing a smirk to my lips.

I had answered in a low tone, "Ready?"

"Hardly," she had responded, "I have broken into the Cave three times… he hasn't been there. No one has. It seems as if their daytime activities are altering those after dark."

Sighing, I had then responded, "Go into the house, then."

"No. Father preferred it was done this way," she had reminded me, "I've intruded upon him in the Cave before, doing so in his residence would not be welcome."

"Fair enough," I had paused before asking, "Have you seen him?"

"Yes… in the city… this afternoon actually," she had paused before re-hashing her venture into the East End, studying him and the others while pretending to look through donated clothing and winter attire. I had instinctively asked her if they had recognized her and Talia had defended herself, "No. I didn't get that close… and there were hundreds of people in the gymnasium… I only saw him for a moment, the door to a small office was ajar and passing by I caught a glimpse…"

After swallowing hard, I had said, "Don't call back until you catch more than a glimpse of him."

"Ordering me around, are you?" she had asked.

"Damn straight, I am," I had closed the connection with a smirk. It had been just shy of seven months since I had last set eyes upon Talia, one of the longest stretches that I had been able to recall. It had been her idea to step aside from the actual plan making and to cast me in a negative light upon reuniting with Bruce and the others. Granted, the scars that laced her body from a lifetime spent under father's rule and acting as his pawn had certainly been joined by a number that bore my signature…

But it wasn't as if she hadn't returned the gesture.

The scar on her face had been countered by Talia slicing off my left pinkie. Her knotted ribs had been payback from her knocking two molars loose from my jaw. The burns on her right side mirrored the red, bubbly skin that seared a good portion of my back. Before starting to work with the actual League members, I had first endured the tests from one of their brightest stars… the daughter of the Demon.

We had readily inflicted harm on one another for years, but that was only because the apologies made it worthwhile. In reality, the more we had harmed one another, the we desired one another. Ra's had initially disapproved and I had readily been willing to back off but Talia refused to do the same. She had claimed that she never had been able to have what she wanted in life and that all had taken away from her without her consent. All she had been able to claim as her own was her child, and realistically speaking the boy belonged to Ra's from the day he was born…

Her next call had come the following Monday. I had been in the midst of meditating, putting my mind through various internal mazes. The soft chirping had been a welcome distraction, especially after I had picked up and she had said, "Now."

_Now _meant that the broad range of variables we had been waiting for had come into play.

They were relocating her, whether it was to the Watchtower of Clocktower or even the Fortress of Solitude, I could have cared less. Given what the Family had endured over the course of the year, there had only been a minute amount of time that Talia's presence would have been allowed before safety concerns rose too high. My personal predictions revolved around Bruce wanting to keep Talia close by while the others wanted her as far away as possible.

Dirty little blue-eyed, black-haired secrets and all…

_Now _indicated that Bruce was alone, or as close as he would ever be in the time span allowed. Desirably, his protégés would be out of the equation, escorting Talia to her new location or readying themselves for their precious patrols. The children had been of little consequence, the wife had posed no threat, and as trusty as Alfred had always been with a rifle, I would have been able to sink a bullet into him faster then he would been able to raise his Winchester.

_Now _allowed my team and I to board helicopters and fly to just outside of the monitored property and remote activate the devices Talia had installed at the beginning of the week. Equipment that would render the security system useless, prevent the generators from kicking on and most importantly, bathe the Manor in darkness. The Cave entrances would be sealed, those in the house confined and no communication in or out.

_Now _meant that we had to move quickly after cutting the power, racing across the back lawn and towards the rear terrace of the house. That after planting and activating explosive charges, that the first wave of men had to race in and face whatever was waiting for them without hesitation.

Interestingly enough, it had been Bruce.

Even through the smoke and chaos, I was still able to see him, far more intensely than that first glimpse Talia had spoken of days earlier. The medical reports I had memorized and the news footage of him from the previous week's charity efforts had been unable to prepare me for the real thing. The thin gray hair, the stiff left leg, the frightened look in his icy blue eyes. The painful sound of his voice calling out when I sent Alfred to the ground with the squeeze of a finger.

The practically nonexistent effort I had to use to take him down.

Although I had promised Ra's that I wouldn't, I found myself letting old wounds open, my emotions getting the best of me. Words came out of my mouth that I had no intention of uttering, the force I used was excessive on its own accord. Thankfully, Leslie Thompkins surprise appearance had forced me to regain my composure. After reprimanding Tyros for manhandling her, I had done practically the same, dragging her by the arm to Bruce's side.

A gesture I instantly realized to be ironic when Bruce started to convulse.

Despite the fact that one of my men announced that the helicopters were two minutes out, all I could hear was the hitched breathing at my feet and Leslie's soft, soothing words. Many of my team were limping their way out of the Manor to prepare to signal to the pilots, but I could only focus on the frail, shell of the man I once knew twitching uncontrollably before me. The documents, the reports and even the side research I had completed became meaningless in that moment.

Before I had left, Ra's had said that my wish for Bruce to suffer had come true without my doing.

Seeing his words come to life before my eyes should have put a smile on my face, but I found myself frowning.

^V^

Despite the cold churning in my gut, everything seemed to be going according to our impromptu plan.

Going to the Cave that afternoon, I had all intentions of going over the previous night's atrocities in Bludhaven and at some point speak to Bruce. I had only attended to the latter, acceptable considering it had been the most important. Not entirely unexpected, he had already dedicated most of his day to locating the last known whereabouts of Ra's al Ghul. He had admitted to questioning Talia by himself, again, but had felt that the ends had justified the means.

Ignoring the fact that his world had fallen apart just as suddenly as mine had in the last few days, I had found myself snapping at him. I had called him out on his wanting to step back, suddenly wanting me to take over everything. When he had tried to give me the same weak excuse as he had earlier in the day, it had been the last straw.

"If this is about me questioning Talia, you can stop right now. I'm going to have J'onn come down, telepathically evaluate her when I question her… here and at the Watchtower."

There had been a fraction of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips before he had responded, "I told you not to second guess yourself on my behalf."

Stepping closer to him, I had defiantly said that I hadn't, that instead I had come to the alternative by my own means being justified by the risks. He had paused before asking what risks were being considered.

"Putting another soul in the middle of this god damned mess… which was what you wanted me to do, wasn't it?"

In his customary way, Bruce had admitted to it without actually doing so.

Giving in to my doubts, I had ended up taking the course that I should have in the first place. Granted J'onn had already been part of moving her to the Watchtower, asking one more favor of him had been easier than I had anticipated. When I had made the call that afternoon, he had noted that his original intentions had bee along similar lines, to make sure she wasn't fabricating a trap.

"Great minds think alike, hunh?" I had commented.

"They do… but having dealt with this woman before… I know all to well how capable she is of manipulating people. Especially Bruce."

Just like Bruce, I had agreed with him without actually doing so.

Flying to Turkey had not been on my list of patrol activities for that evening but had quickly replaced the catch up work that had been waiting for me. Dick was just over two months back into vigilante life, making leaving him as the last man standing unnerving. Unfortunately, Cass demanding to accompany was not open for debate. I had long since learned that when she wanted to do something, she was going to.

Worst case scenario, we would lose a day to travel ad touring the empty facility and not find anything of value.

Best case, we would be able to pick up the trail on two men very capable of bringing the Family to its knees…

After being enveloped in the all too familiar warm haze of electricity, I opened my eyes to the JLA teleportation dock. Within a heartbeat, I spotted J'onn standing beside Talia, quietly awaiting our arrival. I nodded in their direction slightly before looking to my left, offering Cass a minute smirk. Although her lips remained motionless, her eyes softened noticeably.

She had always been a firm believer in speaking without words.

As I followed her out of the teleportation chamber, J'onn's voice sounded softly, "For the time being, I've protected our presence with a psychic block. At this moment, no other League member is aware of the situation save for myself and Superman."

"How did he take it?" I found myself asking.

"Well enough," J'onn replied, "Although he seemed a bit disappointed that you had not contacted him directly."

My gaze moved to fall on Talia's worried face before I said, "I figured the less I reminded him of what red Kryptonite felt like, the better."

Her brow lowered slightly but more than enough to display her insult.

Quickly and quietly, we traveled into the corridor and followed J'onn to the stairwell and the lower level that waited to flights down. Much like the rooms reserved for League members, the holding rooms were hospitable as they were secure. It offered the same security measures as the room Talia had been kept in since Saturday night with the added benefit of being two hundred miles above the surface of the Earth. Add in nearly fifty League and Reserve members present at any given moment and Talia al Ghul was as kept as she was going to get.

Miraculously, we didn't run into any wandering or wayward heroes and made it to the room safely. J'onn noted without being prompted, "There is a meeting in the main hall."

"A made up one?" I asked.

"No… just a week early. Our absence isn't obvious. With your limited attendance over the year, it isn't entirely out of the ordinary."

"And yours?" Cass asked softly.

As J'onn deactivated the lock on the door, he glanced down at her, "I find that it is rare that anyone second guesses my actions." After the reinforced door receded into the wall, he stepped back and gestured for us to enter.

Talia glared at me, then shook her head before walking in. I asked her what was wrong and she waited until the door had sealed shut before replying, "Trading one cell for another."

"Consider yourself lucky. We have plenty of crevasses in the Cave that are far less accessible and far less accommodating," I responded. When she found nothing to say, I proceeded, "Well, seeing how we have a long night ahead of us, let's finish what we started."

"Finish?" Talia inquired, "I'm certain whatever questions you have left, I can not answer."

"We'll see won't we," I looked to J'onn before locking eyes with Talia, "Why is your father working with Jason?"

"He's spent nearly two decades molding him… shaping him into something he always wanted."

Cass spoke up softly, "A son."

Talia's lip twitched slightly. Before she found her voice, she gently touched the scar on her face, "Precisely. He hasn't had me lead a team into the field since Jason proved his worth. My father doesn't even require guards to be present when they are alone… a liberty that was once solely granted to myself."

"Will he name Jason his heir?" I asked without hesitation.

"Only if we are wed. Something I will never accept."

I hesitated before asking, "If Jason is such a valuable player and they are so concerned about your whereabouts… why didn't he come after you?"

She shrugged slightly, "I don't know. Most likely he'll have his men simply kill me, thus encouraging my father to name him next in line."

Before I could continue pressing her, J'onn's brow twitched slightly. If it had been anyone other than the six-foot-ten Martian standing before me, I would have ignored it. But much like my mentor, J'onn did not allow himself to show emotion readily, nor did he make any gesture without reason.

"What is it?" I asked.

J'onn ignored me, his red gaze focusing intently at Talia as she stood before us.

Remarkably, she looked back at him, not even the slightest bit intimidated. J'onn had the ability to turn her into an non-descriptive pile of human parts with his bare hands and yet she stared up at him as if he were a mere rain cloud threatening to ruin her day. And Bruce had expected me to get the truth out of her on my own…

Without warning, J'onn's arm flew out in front of him, latching onto Talia's throat before lifting her up and pinning her against the nearest wall. Cass and I had bolted forward, trying to pull him off of her fruitlessly. Talia's feet kicked out, landing painful blows on J'onn's torso, fruitless given his near invincibility. I found myself barking at him, telling him to let her go while I fought my own pointless battle of prying his hand off of her neck.

And when my bare hand came into contact with his my world ended and Talia's began.

I was no longer in the Watchtower but in a lavishly decorated bedroom, an aroma of sweet incense in the room and the sound of finches chirping from somewhere. My eyes instantly found two subjects sitting on the bed, a stunningly gorgeous woman in a red silk dress, brushing the hair of the girl beside her. The child had similar delicate features, although her green eyes were flecked with hazel.

"My beautiful girl," the woman said softly, gently combing through the waist long locks, "You must look your best for dinner."

"Yes, mother," she responded sheepishly.

"Your father is finally home… he won't believe how big you have gotten." The woman set the brush down on the bed before leaning in ad softly kissing the child's fair cheek, "He'll be so happy to see you, Talia."

With J'onn touching Talia and myself coming into contact with J'onn, the images meant one thing. He was showing me her thoughts, her memories… he was showing me why he had panicked…

The room vanished before my eyes, giving way to a hot, acrid smelling room lined with stainless steel and sheltered with a two-story ceiling and overhead exhaust vents. With the foul air filling my lungs, I scanned for the mother and child, freezing in my tracks upon seeing a male figure approaching, a man no more than twenty-five dressed in dark slacks and tan short-sleeved shirt. His eyes were wide with amazement, his gaze quickly moving from one part of the room to the other. For a moment, I thought he had spotted me, but decided I was relatively safe trapped in a memory.

And that it was equally safe to follow him.

"Good god," the man uttered as we came upon a massive vat inlaid to the floor. The contents were responsible for not only the horrid smell in the air but also the heat. With naturally occurring Lazarus pits growing scarce, Ra's had started making his own in the late seventies. Seeing one in person was always an impressive sight, knowing that falling in alive meant sudden death but going in dead would lead to resurrection…

"Quinlan?" a woman's voice echoed.

We both looked back to see her approaching, instantly recognizing her as Talia's mother. Where I couldn't think of her name off of the top of my frazzled head, he had, "Melisande… I… I…"

"What are you doing in here, Quinlin? You know you are not allowed from the common quarters… not at his hour."

"I apologize…" he turned away from her, stepping dangerously close to the lip of the pit.

She came to stand directly beside him, dressed in a silk nightgown but she still was beautiful, "I do not require an apology… but my husband will."

Quinlin panicked, his voice painfully scared, "No, please, I beg of you!"

"This room is forbidden to all… this can not go unpunished. You know this."

"No!" he swung around, accidentally striking her as he bolted, racing out of the room. I was unsure if he had looked back when Melisande cried out as she slipped and fell into the Lazarus Pit. My eyes had been unable to look away, my throat closing tightly not from the odor of the chemicals but from burning flesh.

The only moment I looked away was when the same child I had seen moments earlier stepped forward. A young Talia, with tears spilling over her cheeks, called out softly, "Mother?"

The room spun and somehow I was in a sitting room, watching Ra's stand beside his now twenty-year-old daughter as she sat on a chaise. In her hands were numerous photographs and she leafed through them slowly. I watched as she tried to fight back a smile, urging me to step closer to see what had caught her eye.

"He is impressive, yes?" Ra's asked.

"Quite so, father," she replied, moving to the next picture before I could reach them, "But American, yes?"

Ra's sighed, "Yes… but he has done well with his significant wealth. Far more than the world will ever know."

I sighed upon looking over her shoulder, seeing that the collection of glossy images were of Bruce. Decked out in his tuxedo at charity events, bathing suit on the beaches of Miami, smiling for the camera like the fop he had once been. As she moved to the next image, I shook my head.

Although investigative reporters had spent the better parts of their careers trying to get images of Batman, Ra's had a tidy collection of very in focus and very impressive images of him, seemingly without trouble. Pictures of him in mid-strike, taking out a group of armed thugs by himself. One of him standing over the fallen bodies of his foes, staring at them in contempt. Then another of him and a remarkably young looking Dick Grayson, not too long before he traded the red and yellow for the black and blue.

"He is the one… my beloved," Talia confirmed.

In a frightening offer of affection, Ra's leaned forward and kissed the top of his daughter's head, "Then it will be so."

The images started coming more quickly, all of them centering on both important and inconsequential moments of Talia's life. Fighting with her father, training with the League, meeting Bruce for the first time and his refusing to sire the heir to the empire of the Demon's Head. Without warning, I flashed to her rescuing his unconscious and bleeding form from an alley. Of her making love to him in her bed chambers. Grudgingly accepting her father's orders to sneak into the Cave in order to steal his protocols on the Justice League.

Then everything slowed down, images of her coming out of order, jumping back and forth with her adulthood and her painful adolescence under her father's rule.

A training room, sparring with bo staffs against a grown man with auburn hair, and when he struck her hard in the abdomen, she growled, "Damn you!"

"You know you like it," he laughed. Her anger quickly faded to passion as he leapt forward, pulled her to him, locking lips before he pinned her against the padded wall.

A teenaged boy with dark hair and piercing blue eyes walking on his hands as Talia and Ra's watched on. Her voice quiet with emotion, Talia pleaded with her father to tell Bruce _the truth_. Her father shutting her down callously, defending his position by saying, "For the very same reason Jason remains at my side, Talia… he has come to terms with his losses, why should I make him suffer them again?"

"It wouldn't be in vain, father, it would bring him happiness…"

He shook his head as he glared down at her, "Nothing will ever truly bring him happiness Talia. He may try with all of his might, but he will still live only in sorrow."

"No…" I found myself gasping as the visions shot further back, to Talia holding an infant in her arms, sobbing softly and begging an absent Bruce for forgiveness.

Lastly, it fell to a medical bay, thin sheets separating gurneys, offering little to drown out the crying agony of injured men. Bruce, cowl in place but doing little to hide his concern, sat beside Talia as she wept on the bed. Her always brilliant form huddled in a fetal position, her quivering back facing Bruce as she hugged her pillow.

He asked, "Talia, is anything wrong? Dr. Weltman didn't say…"

Her voice was a painful whisper, "I am well beloved… I… I lost the baby."

"No," I whispered again as the med unit faded to the guest quarters of the Clocktower, J'onn letting Talia fall to the glossy marble floor and pulling his arm away from me.

His deep baritone filled the room, "I sensed something was not right upon teleporting with her, that she was apprehensive. Her father is more than capable of creating and utilizing counter-psychic technology to increase his defenses. Apparently," he leaned over and grabbed Talia by the ear, pulling a yelp out of her as he reached in and retrieved a device no bigger than a grain of rice, "He has shared this with his wayward daughter."

After J'onn crushed it between his thumb and forefinger, he added, "I would have dealt with this sooner but felt it wasn't my place to do so… at the Cave."

Still catching my breath, I looked to her in utter disbelief.

Her memories were now mine, vivid as if they were happening right in front of me all over again.

"They're coming to the Manor now, aren't they?" I growled, thinking back to the faint spark of her contacting Jason.

Pulling her hair back, she glared up at me and replied, "I told you… I didn't want to leave."

^V^

It took less than ten minutes to suit up in the costume vault, mostly because I neglected to fold my clothes and simply tossed them on an empty bench. A side effect of letting myself function on auto-pilot while my mind ran vicious circles, never ending up anywhere that I wanted it to.

I had hoped that moving her to the Watchtower meant for at least one night of normalcy. Instead, Cass and Tim were heading across the Atlantic to infiltrate the last known residence of Ra's al Ghul. I had been surprised that Tim had so readily agreed for his wife to tag along, but when it came to the Demon's Head, there never was enough back-up. As I headed to the hangar to save Tim the hassle of doing the pre-flight check upon his return, I tried to convince myself that my place was in Gotham with the Family. And that had been the reasoning behind me not volunteering to go with him instead of Cass.

It wasn't that I was afraid to go. I had faced of with Ra's more often than I had cared to admit, even to myself. Globe trotting was once a staple in our vigilantism efforts, so trekking halfway around the world was the least of my concerns. I wasn't worried about my shoulder, protecting my city or even my family.

Reaching the idle plane lightly coated with dust, I sighed, thinking to myself that I was honestly afraid to see what monster Ra's had turned Jason into.

When Talia had first uttered his name and gave her weak attempt at explaining the last seventeen years, I had thought it was impossible. Even watching as Bruce relentlessly cleared the dirt from Jason's grave, I had told myself that even if Ra's took the body, that wasn't proof that he had been resurrected. That he had spent his second lease on life as a bloodthirsty assassin.

It was having J'onn verify Talia's unbelievable truths that suddenly that had my heart racing and my doubts vanishing.

It was true. He was alive. The boy we had looked to as a martyr to our cause and a victim of Bruce's war on crime was alive and well. Not only that, he was scheming with one of our oldest enemies to wreak havoc upon us. He wasn't the boy with a fierce laugh nor was he the first successor to the guise I had brought to life. He was a man, a monster, hell bent on some twisted perception of revenge.

If I went with Tim to hunt down Ra's, it would eventually have me coming face to face with Jason Todd. Two days earlier, I would have gone after the trail with all I had.

Two days earlier, it was just a story.

Suddenly, it was reality. One I was unable to face.

Talia was out of our hair, I started to distract myself. As I plugged in the fuel nozzle, I sighed, knowing that just because she was two hundred miles up above didn't make our troubles any lesser. Didn't make the threat any less real.

Focusing on surface inspection of the fuselage as the tank filled, I fought back images of Talia's face, the sound of Tim voice while he had been questioning her, the look in Bruce's eyes. Shaking the thoughts forcibly from my already frazzled mind, I pulled the nozzle back, reassembled the cap and locked it into place. Two steps down…

Although most of the pre-flight tasks were automated, it still offered a moment of distraction born out of focus. The door was already open and waiting for its pilot, allowing me to pull myself up and in. I wasn't surprised to find the lights of the cockpit already on, remotely activated by the crays. The main console showed the system was already working through automated checks, verifying tire pressure, fuel gauges and brake response. The entire process took roughly fifteen minutes, of which lasted long after the physical inspections of the exterior of the plane, that the flaps were unhindered and the seat belts were ready to go.

Two pairs of tandem seats featuring five point harnesses, which had on more than one occasion prevented me from crashing face first into the bullet proof glass dome.

With the Joker taking up the first half of the year and life being relatively quiet before that, the jet had only been out for routine monthly flights, usually quick jaunts in the open air space of Bristol. Once, Tim and I had taken it to Metropolis and back, seeing if Clark would have noticed. He had, even going as far as joining us for part of the flight back, decked in his red and blue, waving at us with a big smile. At nine hundred miles an hour.

Aside from the Mobile, it was literally the single most impressive piece of our arsenal.

I continued through the automated and physical flight checks, leaving the final approval and activation sequences for Tim to unlock when they got back. Trekking to the garage, I decided the cycle was the best way into the city given the chance for fresh air and three-digit speeds. I donned the helmet before bringing the engine to life, revving it loudly and disturbing the already troubled bats up above. First gear had me out of the garage bay, skipping second and directly into third made the bike growl angrily as it headed towards the tunnel.

Disengaging the clutch with my hand, I instinctively shifted with my left foot before twisting the throttle. As I let go with my left hand, the clutch released and the bike jumped up onward, the odometer reaching then surpassing sixty-five miles per an hour. I was just about to activate the remote controller for the exit at the end of the tunnel when alarms sounded from above, quickly followed by the lights going out overhead.

"What the hell?" I said as I quickly downshifted in order to turn the bike around. Aiming the headlights in the direction I had just come from, I cursed under my breath to see the emergency doors coming out of the walls, preparing to seal me into the tunnel as a safety precaution.

The highest level of security would not let anyone in or out of the Manor or Cave, but given that everything had been fine earlier in the day, I was uncertain as to why Bruce would have changed it. Racing back on the bike, I clenched my teeth as I tried to close in on the doors before they came together. Even red-lining had me yards away as the distance between the two massive steel structures became practically nothing.

It wasn't the first time I bailed and allowed a bike to be destroyed for the greater good. Or rather attempted greater good.

Rolling towards the wall, I looked on from the corner of my eye as the motorcycle crashed into the doors, glass shattering and the engine sputtering. The momentary distraction had been foolish, causing me to underestimate the distance between myself and the stone wall, leaving me crashing into it head first.

Although my helmet absorbed the blow, it was a few minutes before I risked sitting upright. Gingerly, I pulled it off and prodded the lump on the back of my head that hadn't been there ten minutes earlier. Activating the night lenses, I finally glanced over to the bike, momentarily hopeful when I realized that the back half of the bike had spun around and wedged itself between the closing doors.

"Lucky, lucky," I smirked.

With the grinding of unseen gears, I watched on helplessly as the doors proceeded to crush the bike like a cracker.

"Of course," I sighed.

After dusting myself off, I tentatively rose to my feet while making my first call for help on the Oracom in far too long, "Babs, you there?"

Nothing.

I tried the emergency frequency, which also broadcasted to the Watchtower.

Again, silence.

"Fine, be that way," I muttered as I pulled the remote computer from a compartment o my boot. Bringing up the network on the small display screen, I found my hope further dwindling to see that there was no connection available to the Oracom link or to the crays. Using the device's telephone function, I tried calling Wayne Manor. Bruce's cell phone. The Clocktower's emergency line.

Even Gotham County 911 Dispatch.

Nothing.

The technology of the Manor's security system would have shut down foreign and unrecognized communication devices but as a safety measure, it always allowed for Oracom access.

"Okay, deep breath, Grayson," I reminded myself. After convincing my pulse to relax a bit, I proceeded towards the tattered remains of the motorcycle. Fuel and oil had already started to pool underneath it, sparking a slightly plausible idea. From my right gauntlet, I dug out explosive gel and filled the tiny gap between the doors, tracing it down to the ground and around the bike's punctured fuel tank.

At the very least, it would be a proper farewell to another Batcycle.

Stepping back a generous distance, I turned away and closed my eyes before hitting the remote detonator. In an instant, the sealed tunnel was filled with a flash of heat and an echoing thunder that left my ears ringing despite the fact that I plugged them with gloved fingers. With the acrid scent of smoke hitting my nose, I turned around and smiled ant the burning remnants before me.

The blast would have never been able to bring down the doors, but it had cracked open a wormhole.

Using flame retardant capsules Bruce had engineered from the research of Victor Fries, I set the blaze to rest. Moving the debris aside, I gently touched the metal of the doors, waiting until it was cool enough to tolerate before proceeding. Unfortunately, the hole had to be cleared in a smooth fashion, leaving jagged pieces just begging to tear through my Kevlar. I kicked as many of the edges flat as possible, being sure to at least curl the tips upward as to avoid putting myself in a Chinese finger trap.

"Think thin, Grayson," I muttered to myself before stretching my arms through.

Thanks to some minute maneuvering, controlled breathing and significant lack of claustrophobia, I managed to inch my way through calmly and without further harming myself. Getting to my feet, I was shocked to see that the emergency generators had not kicked on, leaving the entirety of the Cave bathed in darkness. The generators were self automated, with solar panel back ups. There was not physical reason for them to have failed in their only duty.

Except if someone had tampered with them.

A quick scan of the Cave's main tiers showed Bruce to be no where in sight. Without the elevator at my disposal, I raced up the stone steps, my worries from earlier quickly replaced with more pressing matters. Namely, that putting the pieces of the last fifteen minutes together suggested someone had knocked out the security and the power, wanting easy access.

And with me on my way out, Tim and Cass in outer space, it was easy access to easy prey.

Reaching the grandfather clock, I quickly applied another batch of the explosive gel, stepping back before activating it. When the smoke cleared and revealed that only a surface burn had resulted, I cursed and punched the reinforced back with more force than I should have. The jolt rode all of the way up my right arm, making my nerves sing for a moment.

Before I could come up with a brilliant plan to open a door that wouldn't open, the lights flickered from above. Putting the gel applicator back in the compartment on my boot, I prayed silently that the explosion had done as little damage as it appeared. Messing up the electronics within would have me running back down the stairs and hoping the electricity would be on long enough to ride the elevator up to the Manor.

Grabbing the manual lever, I wasn't shocked when it didn't budge, the Manor's security still recovering would have put things on high alert. Pulling off a glove, I pressed my palm to the scanner and gave the verbal override for vocal confirmation. When the door unlocked and retreated, I whispered, "Lucky, lucky…"

With the lights on in the study, I switched the night lenses off and proceeded as quickly and quietly to the door as possible. I mused that just because the power was back on didn't mean that the presumed unwanted guests weren't still around. After all, Bruce had always taught me that it was better to be safe than sorry… although in a _Do As I Say, Not As I Do_ sort of way.

As I carefully stepped through the door, I heard a soft jingling. Holding my breath, I recognized the all too familiar chime of a dog license rattling off of a Rabies vaccine tag. Frank made the same sound running up and down the hallway before he was fed, although where Ace was silent in his approach, the French Bulldog always grunted and sputtered dramatically.

"Hier," I called out softly. Not five seconds later, the big German Shepherd rounded the corner, spotted me and trotted forward. He was a bit hesitant given my garb, but I removed the mask and offered a smile and my hand. When he allowed me to pet him, I asked, "Where is everybody?"

He licked his lips softly and looked back in the direction he had come from. As he trotted off, I noticed that glove had come away slick with blood and I suddenly wondered if it belonged to the dog or a victim of his. Sticking to the wall, I followed him and the sound of his collar towards the back of the house. Nearing the atrium, I detected the faint smell of smoke, not from a fire but of an explosive device.

What used to be the nicely decorated sitting area just inside the terrace's French doors was scattered with overturned furniture, shattered glass and bits of wood. Although my eyes were drawn to the big gaping hole that had once been the intricately decorated doors, they shifted quickly when Ace whined. I looked down as he reclined beside a very still figure, the blood that had been on his coat having soaked onto him from the puddle on the floor.

Before my lungs froze with fear, I managed to say, "Alfred?"

Racing to him, I knelt beside him and quickly went about pulling my glove off to feel for a pulse. When something weak, but steady met my fingertips, I allowed myself to exhale. I retrieved the med kit from my boot, retrieving a compress for once I found the wound.

As I began to cut away his sweater, Alfred whispered, "Already ruined I suppose…"

"Alfred…" I gasped, "Can you hear me?"

He forced his eyes to open, "Well enough, young sir…"

"What did they do to you?"

He gingerly raised his right hand to point at his left shoulder, "We now have something in common, sir."

Ripping back the sweater and shirt beneath as carefully as possible, I doused the wound with a clotting agent before adhering the compress bandage. I asked him if it had exited through his back but Alfred shook his head, the effort far too great given the task. As I doctored him as best as I could, I tried to get information from him without causing undue stress. His story started just as mine had, the alarms sounding, the power cutting out.

Although while I had been crashing my bike, he had sent Leslie and the children downstairs to the vault.

"I didn't even think to check," I shook my head, "Where's Bruce then?"

He bit his lip for a moment and I thought it had been from pain. Alfred's voice was heavy with dread, "They took him… Leslie, too…. She must have sent the children on their own… came back for me…"

"It's okay, Al… It's going to be okay… Did they… did they say anything? Anything at all?"

He nodded, "They came... from... Ra's al Ghul."

"They said that?"

When he tried to force himself to sit up, Alfred shook his head. Reluctantly, I helped him, surprised when he then used me to get to his feet. "Not in so many words… but… there was one… he claimed to be Master Jason... He was the one that shot me... That disabled Master Bruce…"

"Alfred, hang on a minute…" I tried to get him to relax, flashing back to all of the times he had fruitlessly tried to get any of us to rest after an injury.

"I must… find Miss Mattie… Master Terrance..."

The wound required surgery that any doctor would have to report to the authorities.

He needed a blood transfusion and a score of antibiotics and anti-inflammatories.

The Family's physician and the love of his life was just kidnapped by Jason Todd.

Along with Bruce…

Looking at the pain and terror filled eyes of the man I had always looked to for strength, I realized that my luck had officially run out.

^V^


	12. Come What May:  XII

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Summary: The Family reacts to Jason Todd's attack. Some better than others.

Rating: T

Infringements: All recognizable characters belong to DC Comics, not DC Luder.

Author's Note: My sincere apologies for my absence over the last six months.

^V^

Even a busy, non-stop day at the Preserve hadn't been enough to clear my mind.

I had caught up on meaningless tasks, read through and signed grant proposals and met with our head veterinary staff to prepare for the following year's building additions. I had eaten bites of a turkey club sandwich in between returning phone calls and responding to a full inbox of e-mails. At one point, I had realized that even being in my office had been counter productive in trying to recover from my horrible morning. Sitting at my desk, the picture of Bruce with the kids on the back terrace had kept staring at me, as had the bare patch of skin on my left ring finger.

At the very least, the commute should have done the trick, just as it had on any other occasion where Bruce and I had been at odds. Being alone and having the hour ride to and from had always been my most productive _me _time. That day, I had spent more than an accumulated two hours in my car, alternating between silence and blaring music to help center myself.

Any of the anger and hurt that I had been able to ease returned the second I passed through the gates of Wayne Manor.

Rather than park in the garage, I chose to leave the SUV out back and to the left of Tim's Honda sedan. With Alfred already being pulled in every direction, I had called him midday to inform him dinner was on me for the evening. Although he had protested, I had suggested he pick up Leslie a bit early so she would be able to join us. On time.

"Very good, madam," had been his reply.

I had paused for a moment before forcing myself to ask, "Where's Bruce?"

"Downstairs… tending to some research."

"I bet."

"Shall I forward the call, Ms. Selina?"

"No…" I had said a bit too sternly, leading me to add, "I'll talk to him when I get home."

Stepping out of the car five hours later, I realized that my words had been far too optimistic.

Laughter and playful barking drew me to the rear lawn. Nathan and Ace were well into one of their endless games of fetch. No matter how many times my son threw the ratty tennis ball, Ace would promptly retrieve it, race back and drop it at his pint-sized master's feet. It went the same for whenever Alfred tried to dispose of the once brilliant green ball. Ace always found a way of getting it back.

"Hi Mom!" my son called out before throwing the ball, lofting it way up and out to nearly the rose garden fence line. Ace bolted, his ears upright and his eyes never wavering from his bouncing prey.

Approaching Nathan, I touched his shoulder before leaning over and kissing his mused hair, "Hey, kiddo, you just get home?"

"Little while ago," he looked up at me, "Tim said to tire him out really good."

I appraised the lolling tongue and frantic panting as Ace trotted back with tennis ball firmly held between his jaws. Before my son could take the ball from the dog, I intervened, "Looks like he is plenty tired… maybe you should let him throw the ball for you."

Nathan shook his head, "I don't think so."

Keeping my hand on his shoulder, I turned him towards the service entrance, "Come on… let's get this poor dog something to drink."

He lead the way into the atrium, kicking his sneakers off before wiping Ace's paws dry with a towel. I watched on as he opened the door, following his canine friend into the house. The kitchen was devoid of life, making Ace's pants seem painfully loud. While Nathan topped off the dog's porcelain water bowl, I filled two glasses with ice water, marking my son's with a blue straw.

Dog sated, Nathan climbed up onto a stool and blew bubbles before taking a few long swallows. I sipped mine slowly, wary of my son's pouting face. Most afternoons when I returned home, he asked a million questions about what cats I had visited with and if there were any new ones coming into the Preserve. Seeing him quietly sit and drink was unnerving.

"You okay, Nate?" I finally asked.

"Yeah," he replied without looking up.

"Doesn't sound like you are…"

After sipping down the last of his drink, he finally looked up at me, "I just… I think the Tooth Fairy forgot all about me… I still have two loose ones that haven't come out and… and the one that is still under my pillow."

My heart sank. I swiftly covered by saying, "Well, I will get to the bottom of this, kiddo. That Tooth Fairy is not going to forget about you after I get done with her. No one messes with Shere Khan and gets away with it."

He smirked around the straw, then proceeded to smile with the bit of plastic resting in the gap left by his absent tooth, growling lowly.

"And guess what?"

"What?"

"On my way home, I ordered dinner from Santo's…"

"You did?" his blue eyes lit up. Under the tutelage of Tim and Dick, my son had grown to become obsessed with the Italian eatery. They taught him how to breadstick sword fight, that you can manage to stick an entire giant ravioli in your mouth and that root beer tasted better after you burped. Thankfully, it offered a take-out service that prevented my son from demonstrating his acquired antics in public.

"I did… Should be ready in about ten minutes… you want to come with me to pick it up?"

"Can we get Italian ices?"

"Yes."

"Sweet!" he leapt from his stool , the sudden motion causing the dog to jump to his feet, ready for action. Thankfully, it was only following Nathan as he raced out of the kitchen and into the corridor. I called after him to get his coat from upstairs, to which he replied, "Santooooooooos!"

After leaving a handwritten note on the kitchen counter that I had kidnapped my son, I also sent a text message to Tim telling him that he was free of Nathan Duty and solely responsible for Mattie. By then, Nathan had returned, armed with his blue and red Giants jacket. When he asked if Ace could come, as he had the night before when we picked his sister up from Terry's, I declined, "I ordered quite a bit. Not going to be room enough for you, him and food."

It was a seven minute drive to the restaurant, made even faster with Nathan finally asking me about the big cats and if they had missed me the week before. When we arrived, our broad selection off of the dinner menu was already prepared and bagged. Before I paid the three digit bill with a credit card, Nathan eyed the Italian Ice display. Keeping my word, I added a lemon ice to the tab.

He carried the bag of side salads and breadsticks while I handled the heavy lifting. Baked ziti, penne a la vodka, spinach ravioli and eggplant Parmesan for Leslie, Dick, Mattie and Alfred. For Nathan, I had picked his favorite, a pepperoni filled calzone, leaving the chicken Marsala for myself and the grilled pepper and steak rustica for Bruce.

Since the place had opened years earlier, we had always ordered the same thing, stealing bites from one another. Sharing tiramisu afterwards and a walk through Cole Park…

Not three miles into the trek back home, I slowed to a stop before a massive amount of flashing lights. As Nathan asked what was going on from the back seat, I replied that I didn't know.

"Mom?"

There were a pair of ambulances, three state troopers, a fire engine and two of the Bristol police cars on both the left and right shoulders. In the middle of the road were the remains of two vehicles, one a large black Avalanche truck and the other appeared to be a blue Ford Focus.

"Is it an accident?"

Or what was left of it…

"Can I have a breadstick?"

When I spotted a tall man in grey khaki approaching, I rolled my window down and asked Nathan to be quiet. The trooper sighed before nodding at me, "Just going to be a few minutes, ma'am. Still waiting on a tow truck."

"Of course, not a problem." I wanted to ask if everyone was okay but from the look of the smaller sedan, I doubted that it would have been an answer anyone wanted to hear.

The trooper nodded again, smirked at Nathan in the back and then returned to the scene.

"Nate, you can have one breadstick," I gave my delayed answer as I reached for my purse.

I decided the best person to contact was Mattie. No matter where she went in the Manor or even in the Cave, her cell phone was never far behind, usually kept right with her inhaler. She answered after a few rings, "Hello?"

"Hey, kiddo, it's me… We're going to be a little late… there's an accident on 42 that's blocking the road."

"Are you okay?" she asked.

"Oh, we're fine. It just might be a while before they let traffic through… I gave your brother a breadstick… worse comes to worse, I'll let him have part of a calzone. Is Alfred back yet?"

"I don't think so…" she sighed before adding, "Mom, I hope it's okay, Terry came over after gymnastics practice so we could do homework."

"Homework… is that why I hear Just Dance menu music in the background." As listened to her laugh nervously, I said, "That's fine, if Dad asks, just tell him I said okay… How is everyone up there?"

"Good, I think they are all downstairs still."

"Probably, well I shouldn't be more than twenty minutes… I'll let you know when I'm coming up the drive, I'm going to need all hands on deck to unload all of this food."

"Okay… thanks, Mom."

"Anytime, kiddo."

After hanging up, I went to toss the phone back into my purse when it buzzed back to life. Looking at the display, I froze upon seeing Bruce's name. Burying it in my purse, I ignored the call, not surprised when the phone grew silent for a moment before offering another chime, signifying that a voice mail was waiting for me.

It was a long fifteen minute wait at the accident before I was allowed to slowly creep down the right hand lane. From there, the rest of the ride home was without obstacle. I heard Nathan sneak a second breadstick out of the bag but didn't reprimand him for it. After all, the Tooth Fairy had forgotten about him, the least she could do was let him have his favorite snack.

I distinctly recalled seeing the missing tooth the day before but it had never registered that the next step was the check under his pillow after he went to bed. I had been too concerned about Bruce and Talia and everything falling apart once again. Rather than actually be there for my children, I had pretended to, watching movies with them, trying to deter questions about our house guest and bribe them with late bed times and snacks.

My mind was so caught up in feeling guilty, that I barely noticed the gates didn't budge when I approached them for the third and final time that day. Slamming on the brakes, I stopped just before the front bumper touched the right hand gate. Nathan laughed and asked who had taught me how to drive.

I chuckled as well, pressing the remote control once more. Again, the gate didn't budge.

Dialing Mattie's phone, I was put further at unease when it simply rang and rang before going to voicemail. I even called the house line, Bruce's cell and then finally Tim's.

"Selina, where are you?" he greeted me coldly.

"At the gate. It's not letting me in."

"Of course… I just locked it down… there, that should do it." A second later the gates opened and I passed through, keeping one hand on the wheel and the other on the phone.

Trying to remain outwardly calm, I asked, "What's going on?"

He sighed, his breathing as fast and uneven as mine, "I'll unlock the service entrance for you as well… but it will lock back up again in ten minutes automatically."

"Tim, what's-."

He interrupted me, "Cass, Mattie and Terry are in the den… I'm in the study… when you get here… meet me there."

"Tim?"

"Please." The tone of his voice had me agreeing without further question, hanging up and pocketing the phone as I pulled up next to his car once more.

I helped Nathan bring in dinner, setting the bags on the counter before telling him to go sit with his sister in the den while I found everyone else. With Ace meeting us in the corridor, I felt slightly better about sending my son off on his own. Pulse throbbing in my temples, I quickly jogged to the study, finding the door open and Tim standing alone in front of the fireplace.

"Okay, what is going on?" I asked, drawing his attention. He looked utterly depleted, the last few days finally catching up with him. Looking more closely, I realized there was something else, something worse than just being tired, frustrated and pushed one step too far.

Something I couldn't put my finger on.

It was after Tim quietly and calmly explained what had taken place over the course of the last thirty minutes that it hit me. While Nathan and I had been picking up dinner, the League of Assassins had blown a hole into the back of my house. When Nathan had been debating between cherry or lemon ice, Bruce had been fighting for his life against Jason Todd. As I had been telling my son to be quiet while I spoke with the state trooper, Dick had been loading a wounded Alfred up in the subway tunnel car to take him to the Free Clinic.

"Why not have Leslie take care of him?" my lips managed to form words.

Tim hesitated before replying, "Because… they took her..."

Although my lungs had decided to no longer process air, I found it painfully possible to ask, "And Bruce?"

After he replied that Alfred had seen both Leslie and Bruce dragged outside to a pair of helicopters, I realized what the look was on his face was. I suddenly felt the same emotion course through me as I fell to my knees, unable to breathe or even cry. I had a taste of it that morning, unable to even utter another word at Bruce before storming away. And even the night before, leaving my wedding rings on the counter.

It was pure and utter defeat.

I felt Tim's arm wrap around my shoulders, heard soft words filled with concern and even caught a glimpse of his pained face. Floating, I felt myself rising from the cold floor and slowly falling to the plush leather couch of the study. I had spent countless afternoons on the very same couch, teasing Bruce while he attempted to work at his desk, doing anything I could to distract him.

Each time his brow had lowered and he had growled, "Selina," had been a victory…

Tim's fingers checked the pulse at my wrist before they traveled to pinch my fingernails down in order to elicit a response. Looking up at him, I wanted to say I was okay but the words wouldn't form on my lips, nor would the air leave my lungs.

What seemed like hours later, I managed to ask, "…Tim?"

Setting a hand on my shoulder, Tim looked me directly in the eyes and said, "I'm here."

"Bruce… he…" my voice faded as I forced myself to sit up, an attempt to appear less vulnerable made fruitless while failing to brush his hand away.

Tim didn't try to stop me but remained at my side on the couch, "Jason could have killed him if that was their plan… but he took him. Alive. And Leslie… To take care of him…"

I continued, acting as if I hadn't heard him, "Bruce called me… twenty minutes ago… maybe he… maybe he said where they were…"

He shook his head, "Talia installed signal blockers and interference equipment last week… that's what cut the security system, the generators… and no calls were able to go in or out. It had to have been before…"

"You said they took him to the helicopters… what if he was able to-."

^V^

A grim look took hold of my face. Although I wanted to explain to Selina that her husband had been beaten to near unconsciousness before a seizure had taken hold of him, I didn't. Instead, I told her to stay put and that I would get her phone so that we could listen to the message he had left her. She quietly nodded before telling me it was in her purse, sitting on the kitchen counter along with our dinner.

Exhaling slowly, I left her alone in the study, navigated the halls under the dim lighting and retrieved her cell phone. Keying it out of sleep mode, I found the display reading **1 Missed Call, 1 New Message**.

Adding another reason to hate myself to the list, I pressed play.

There was a brief pause before I heard Bruce's soft voice, "I know you don't want to talk to me… but I hope you will at least listen. You said this morning that I didn't understand why you were upset… But I do. I understand that there is nothing I can say or do that will take back what I've done… But I want you to know that I regret hurting you. I regret every time I've brought tears to your eyes. I don't deserve your forgiveness, because I won't forgive myself. I do love you, Selina… and as difficult as it may seem, everything that I have ever done was meant to protect you."

"If you'd like to delete this message, press one. If you'd like to save it your archive, press-."

I pressed two, not wanting to erase what may have been Bruce's last words to his wife…

An ill-timed feud, one no doubt they were both regretting given the night's violent twist.

None of us had seen it coming. Although, we all should have…

Not an hour earlier, Cassandra and I had been at the Watchtower, standing in the tension filled room with Talia and J'onn. Without warning, I had been given a glimpse into Talia's mind, which regrettably had unearthed the fact that she had not been running from Jason and her father, but working for them. Anger filling every fiber of my being, at her and myself, I had asked, "They're coming to the Manor now, aren't they?"

"They have been and gone by now, Timothy. I told you…" she had responded quietly, "I didn't want to leave."

That she had. She had pleaded with Bruce, begging not to be taken to the Watchtower.

Her idea of a warning, thin as a piece of tattered paper, just as weak and as full of holes.

Appearing in the Cave to Bruce that night, seemingly forever ago, had been no coincidence. Catching him off guard, playing the tortured soul, it had garnered her way with him for decades. Had she crept up on myself or Dick, she would have been instantly shipped off to the Watchtower to be held prisoner, not protective custody. She had pressed the right buttons, pushing Bruce over the emotional limit by telling him about Jason, naturally leading to his involvement in the exhumation. An empty coffin where he had laid the broken bones of a teenage boy, serving as an incentive to believe her lies all the more.

"What have you done?" my voice had been a whisper.

The images, her memories, had been emblazoned into my brain. Her painful childhood had been no surprise as I had spent a majority of the summer revisiting every fact we had on her and her father. The images of Ra's and Talia admiring images of Bruce had been no shocker, either. Ra's had researched his prospective heir to the point of deducing his secret identity. What had my mind spinning were the flashes of Jason growing from wild teenager to violent man, of he and Talia kissing passionately…

Of the child that she held in her arms…

"I have done nothing, Timothy… perhaps you should ask yourself that question."

Staring into Talia's hazel-green eyes, I had felt my blood beginning to boil, my pulse throbbing in my temples and my breath felt as if it should have been accompanied by flames. Once again, she had played us the fool, luring us right into her father's snare. Her siren tongue had spun the right verses, told the right stories and dropped the right amount of hints.

Without an ounce of remorse, I had punched her square in the face.

"Tim!" J'onn had reached for me before I could retract my arm to strike at her again, the hold on my upper arm unbearable in his vice-like hand. Cass had stepped forward as well, ready to either defend me against a retaliation or step in to keep me from making another mistake. Talia had managed to keep herself upright despite the force of the blow, only taking a step backwards in recovery.

She had hid her shock well, going as far as smirking as she had replied, "It seems you are not like him after all…" Talia had delicately touched her bleeding nose, her fingers not even bothering to staunch the flow, "So much anger, so little control."

"You haven't seen me angry, yet," I had snapped back, involuntarily straining against J'onn's hold. Although he had been more than capable of lifting me with his pinkie finger and tossing me to the other side of the Watchtower, he had simply used enough force to keep me in check. When I had glared up at him, he had stared right back with expressionless, red eyes.

I felt his presence before the words echoed in my mind, "Rage will not get you the answers you need. You know this."

After I had exhaled slowly, J'onn had released me, remaining at my side as a precautionary measure. Although I knew my face had still been flushed with anger, I had managed to soften my jaw and brow in order to ask, "Where are they taking him?"

Talia had licked a dollop of blood from her upper lip, tapping her brow before responding, "You saw for yourself… I don't know the exact details. I knew enough to set things in motion for Jason and my father. The rest is up to them."

"I don't believe you… I don't believe a word that passes through your venomous lips," I had growled.

Which was why I had J'onn bypass her needing to utter another word entirely.

Leaving me out of the equation, he had melded his mind with hers once more, fast forwarding through the unnecessary and searching for anything remotely related to Bruce's kidnapping. I had stood by, watching silently along with Cass as J'onn's hand gently touched Talia's temple, eliciting a shocked look on her usually calm visage. J'onn's brow had not so much as twitched throughout the exchange, his focus entirely on the task before him.

Cass had whispered, "What did you see?"

"She's been working with them this entire time… Her father, Jason… all along."

"To do what?"

I had hesitated, looking down at her before answering, "Hopefully J'onn's finding that out right now."

We had waited another five painfully quiet minutes before J'onn drew his hand away, leaving Talia to stumble back two steps and gasp for air. Without wasting a moment concerning himself with her distress, J'onn had faced us, "There are some details to be had, but nothing of an exact location."

"What kind of details?" I had asked curtly.

"They were to be transported via helicopter to a private airstrip outside of the city. Talia was to escape and join them but if she had been five minutes late, they were to depart without her."

She had glared at me, finally wiping the drying blood from her face, "They are long gone, I assure you. Jason was under direct orders not to wait for me."

"That I do believe," I had replied.

J'onn had readily agreed to continue working with her and to get in touch with Barbara afterwards. Leaving her in his custody, Cass and I had rapidly made our way back to the teleportation bay. By then, the Cave's security system had regained control once more, automatically increasing the ranks given the intrusion it had endured. Entering the bypass codes from the Watchtower arose suspicion, but after the back-ups cleared, the system had granted me access.

Saving time by teleporting together, we had arrived back at the Cave in a flash of white. Stepping off onto solid ground, I had immediately detected the acrid smell of smoke. I had barked at Cass to check the main entrance to see if it was secure while I had raced towards the computer bay. My first act had been to stomach the urge to run blindly up to the Manor without knowing what could have been waiting for me. Instead, I had immediately run a scan of the grounds revealed nothing out of order, but the evaluations of the Cave and Manor reported back a laundry list of problems.

The main tunnel's security door had closed not ten minutes earlier, recording that there had not only been an obstruction but an explosion. I had brought up the footage coinciding with the time of incident, sighing with relief that it had been Dick breaking his way back into the Cave and not anyone else. The grandfather clock entrance had also reported an explosion but no significant damage, video again showing Dick in his suit racing into the Manor.

"Tim?" Barbara had asked as the Oracom came up on the main screen, "What the hell is going on?"

"Trying to figure that out…" I had growled.

"I had no access to the system for the last fifteen minutes…" her face had been filled with worry but somehow her voice had remained strong, "I'm thinking it can't be for a good reason."

"It was Talia… she's been working with Ra's and Jason… the second we left, they came..." I had caught her up to speed with what had transpired at the Watchtower, leaving out the brief moment I had lost control and let my anger get the best of me.

She had allowed herself a moment to defeat her shock before responding, "I picked up air traffic in Bristol just in case something was up… two helicopters moving in opposite directions. One north and one south. Neither have landed so far but both radios are silent, no digital communication whatsoever."

"Keep on them, we'll take care of things here."

As I had offered what little J'onn and I had learned from Talia, I had turned to the third major flag that the Cave's report had brought up. Specifically, it had been a notification that the costume vault was sealed from the inside with two occupants, only one of which the Cave recognized as having clearance: Mattie E. Wayne. Bringing up the security feed, I had sighed with relief to see she and Terry were safely sitting on the bench towards the back of the dressing area. I could have cared less at that moment that Terry was surrounded by the guises of Batman, Nightwing and Batgirl.

His learning the truth had tragically been the least of my worries.

Closing the Oracom, I had heard Cass jogging across the main tier. Without looking back to her, I had begun reviewing the security scan reports from the Manor, specifically that the back terrace entrance sensors recorded damage from an explosion. Motion sensors on the upper floors had yielded no sign of life but there had been some movement on ground level. It had been in the same area that had been blown up, making it either a very good or a very bad sign.

There had been one camera that had survived the blast, one that had scanned the rear atrium during the assault. It, along with its former partner on the opposite side of the room, had the ability to pan and focus in based on activity, capture images in infrared if needed and all in glorious high definition. Not mentally prepared to rewind and watch what had transpired while Talia had been making a fool of me, I had chosen to simply watch the current feed.

Surprisingly, it had been of Dick helping a battered, blood covered Alfred to his feet.

As Cass had come to stand behind me, a gasp had escaped her usually silent lips. In an effort to help distract her obvious concern for our favorite gentleman's gentleman, I had said, "Cave and the Manor's sweeps are done, no one but Alfred and Dick… I'll help them… Mattie and Terry are in the vault, get them out and get them upstairs. Keep them in the den for now."

She had asked quietly, "No one else?"

I had risen to my feet offering her only a headshake before striding away, not certain if I had the ability to vocally admit that Bruce was gone.

_I have done nothing, Timothy… perhaps you should ask yourself that question…_

Instinctively, I had stopped at the medical bay en route to the elevator, picking up not only the gurney but gauze, tape and pre-measured dosages of morphine. It had become practically second nature when it came to doing triage for myself, or even for my allies. If anything, we had all gained enough knowledge and techniques working side-by-side with Alfred and on occasion with Leslie, over the years.

We had all earned our badges of honor fighting the war on crime…

I had arrived at the elevator just as the doors opened, surprised that although Alfred had been limp in Dick's arms, he had still been capable of protesting. Hearing him complain about being jostled about had been music to my ears.

"Well, the next time I get shot, you can _jostle _me around," Dick had tried to joke, but it had fallen flat. I had locked the gurney in place before helping him lay Alfred down as gently as possible. The starched white shirt along with his green sweater had been stained crimson with blood, the wound seeming to be just beneath the collar bone. Although saturated gauze was in place, I had immediately grabbed what I had taken from the medical bay and added it on top, pressing down with as much force as I had dared.

Alfred had winced audibly, leaving Dick to ask, "Not going to let a little bullet hole get the best of you, are you, Al?"

"Not in the least," Alfred had replied quietly as I unlocked the gurney and began to move it with my right hand firmly on the guard rail

Where Dick had been trying to lighten the tense moment, I had found myself doing the opposite. Before we had even reached our destination, I had asked him to replay what had happened, earning a low-browed look from Dick. Alfred had done his best replaying the evening, starting with his return home to the alarms sounding and Bruce ordering him to get the children with Leslie to the Cave. Upon reaching the medical bay, I had asked him about the intruders, barely noticing as Dick traded his suit's gloves for latex ones, let alone when he had started cleaning and examining the wound.

Alfred had paused to wince before saying, "I found them in the rear sitting area… Master Bruce doing what he could to disable them… He was rather successful in his efforts… until…" he had winced, then finished, "Until Master Jason shot me."

"Are you sure it was it him?" I had asked.

"He could have killed you if he wanted to," Dick had interrupted, "This shot was perfect to disarm you, no major blood vessels, no major tissue or bone damage… He just wanted Bruce to think that he had killed you. To set him off."

"That it did," Alfred had remarked before looking to me with glassy eyes, "And I am afraid it was indeed Master Jason…"

"Did they say anything?" I had asked gruffly, "Did he say anything?"

"Nothing really… just… threatening Master Bruce… angering him… before attacking him… I heard the bones crunch from the other side of the room…" It had been then that his lower lip began to quiver, reliving the terrifying moment of uselessness.

I had joined him in self-hatred, quietly listening as he noted that Jason had said that they needed Leslie, that they had planned to take her to care for Bruce. Dick had noted that if they had been able to study the Family long enough, plus with Talia's seamless integration, that they would have known how bad off Bruce had been of late.

And that if they wanted his doctor, they didn't plan on killing him.

Biting my tongue, I had remained silent instead of adding, "Yet."

^V^

I told him that we would get him back. Both of them.

Minutes earlier, I had been trying to keep Alfred from getting to his feet, the same unknown force driving him as it had his eldest charge for decades. When I had tried to coerce him to lay back down, he had harrumphed at me. Accepting that there was no stopping him, I had managed to focus on making sure that all of his one-hundred and fifty pounds remained upright.

Bleeding and bullet ridden, he still had no intention of taking orders.

Although I had wanted nothing more than to scoop him up and race down the corridor to the elevators, I suffered in silence as I helped him along, step by step. I had somehow kept myself from further asking him questions about what had happened, not wanting to upset him any further. Instead, I had simply focused on his breaths as they passed by my ear, his pulse as it had throbbed under the hand I had wrapped under his arm ad resting on collarbone.

As a result, I had been ready when he collapsed five steps later.

"I've got you, Al," I had said while taking him carefully into my arms.

"Unnecessary, Master Dick…"

"Sorry, Al," I had replied, "I learned how to ignore fruitless protests from the best."

He quivered slightly as I had stepped forward into the elevator car, whispering softly, "And yet… you still can not properly arrange… flatware."

I had been unable to hold back a smirk, pressing the basement button before providing my verbal code, "He'd fly through the air with the greatest of ease, the daring young man on the flying trapeze."

The elevator had quickly descended, although it seemed as if it took an eternity to reach the subterranean level. It had also been painfully silent, silent enough for my pulse to throb loudly at my temples and for me to hear the blood dripping from Alfred's form to the floor of the car. When my gaze fell down to his face, I had found his eyes staring off to some unknown distance.

"We'll get her back, Al," I had said just before the car landed softly, "Both of them."

He had slowly turned his head to look up at me, lower lip trembling.

The doors opened to reveal Tim waiting with a gurney. A moment later, I found that he was also ready with the interrogation.

We hastily moved the stretcher to the medical bay, my focus entirely on keeping Alfred still while Tim seemed concerned more on getting what he could before the older man passed out. While he led the questioning, I did as much triage work for Alfred as I was able to. Given the last fifteen minutes had been pure madness, I was surprisingly capable of stilling my hands to trade my gloves for green latex ones. Cleaning the wound best as I could before applying a fresh compress bandage, all of the while checking the pulse in his left wrist before comparing it to the right one.

During it all, Tim was trying to pry information from the only witness we had.

The low brow, the stern voice, the mask of Batman without the cowl.

I remained silent and focused while Tim asked about the power outage, the number of men that had been sent, what they said and sounded like. He asked about the helicopters, if Jason had said anything hinting as to where they were headed next. I grimaced when Tim asked for details about Bruce's condition upon being abducted, as well as Leslie's. Alfred regrettably had little to offer, claiming that he had only briefly seen the League of Assassin members before being gunned down by Jason.

"He could have killed you if he wanted to," I said while shaking my head, "This shot was perfect to disarm you, no major blood vessels, no major tissue or bone damage… No doubt he just wanted Bruce to think that he had killed you. To set him off. To make him more vulnerable."

"That it did," Alfred answered and then turned his head to face Tim, "And I am afraid it was indeed Master Jason…"

"Did they say anything?" Tim asked again, his voice, "Did he say anything?"

"Nothing really… just… threatening Master Bruce… angering him… before attacking him… I heard the bones crunch from the other side of the room…"

With the bleeding under control, I proceeded to straighten Alfred's arm, wiping the top of his hand before inserting and securing an IV line. With lactated ringers dripping into his bloodstream, I went about, pressing down just above the crease to encourage his cubical vein to stand up. His unmatched theatrical ability kept him from expressing the true extent of his pain. Intravenous morphine would allow him to actually feel comfort rather than feigning it.

With a bumpy ride on the tunnel shuttle in his immediate future, Alfred was going to need it.

As I was administering the pre-set dose into the IV catheter, Alfred sighed quietly, "Leslie came out… I had sent her to tend to the children…"

"Which she did… Cass is with them now, they were in the vault, safe and sound," Tim reassured him while I went about withdrawing the needle and re-attaching the IV line.

Appraising his vitals, Tim resumed asking about Leslie's condition, "Did they hurt her, too?"

Alfred shook his head slowly, took a painful breath and then answered, "Not terribly… One of Jason's men struck her… he was swiftly and painfully reprimanded… Jason did say something to the effect that… they needed her. For what, I don't know…"

"If they wanted Bruce alive… then they would want his caretaker to see that he stayed that way," I noted.

Keeping my focus to Alfred, I adjusted the blood-spattered rubber glove that was suffocating my right hand. Although we had managed to get Alfred in somewhat stable condition, he still needed to be seen by someone with the finesse to remove the bullet without causing further damage. I had dug out my fair share of bullets over the years but not out of a seventy-four year old man. He needed someone who spent her days tending to the victims of violence without batting an eye.

"Tim, can I talk to you for a second?" I asked.

He looked to me before nodding, following me away from the gurney as Alfred muttered softly to himself. The drugs finally taking effect I hoped, and not that he was succumbing to shock Out of hearing range, he inquired, "What?"

"I can't do anything more for him… I'm going to take him to Dr. Bryce."

"And expose all of our identities? It's bad enough that Terry just spent the last half-hour in the god damned costume vault," he responded in what resembled far too much of a growl for my preference, "Adding to that… it's the last thing we need right now."

"He needs a doctor, Tim."

He shook his head, "We have his own blood right here in our bank for transfusions, we have everything we need-."

Invading his personal space in one step, I growled back, "He needs a surgeon. I'm not about to go digging around in a seventy year old torso, are you?"

Tim looked over his shoulder briefly at the still figure laying mere yards away. The stern look that had been resident on his face a moment early began to fade, waning with every painful breath that Alfred took. Before he turned back to face me, Tim pointed out, "And what do we tell her?"

"Simple enough. We tell her the truth." His head spun around at that, but before he could respond, I proceeded, "Bruce Wayne was kidnapped tonight. Along with his physician. During the process, Alfred was shot trying to intervene. We are here to bring them back. No police. No FBI. Just us."

He took a moment before replying, "The truth… something we don't do very often."

I sighed, then said, "Speaking of the truth… what are we going to tell the kids?"

Tim visibly winced, "I don't know… obviously Mattie knows something. As does Terry."

He stayed and helped me gingerly move Alfred into the cramped subway car. With the IV bag stationary and the emergency medical supply bag at hand just in case, I promised my partner that I would return as soon as possible. He nodded, told a drifting Alfred to hang tight and shut the door after giving me a curt nod.

Given the ties the Wayne ancestors had to the Underground Railroad, most of the tunnel had already been completed long before Bruce decided to put it to use. He had bought up property that covered old drainage systems, failed suburbia subway lines and any loose ends needed to get a direct line to the heart of Gotham. The original efforts had started not long before I had joined the Family as an orphaned acrobat and had not been completed until I was just about to quit.

Like Bruce had always said, a great deal in life required time and money. And he had both.

For the most part, the tunnel had been used primarily for emergency exits, both from the city and from the Manor. The former was often done so while evading police while the latter was spent running to their aide. On a few rare occasions, it had been used for transporting materials from the main cave to the various satellite stations located within the city. It had three final destinations within the city, one in Midtown, one in Chelsea and the last in the East End.

More specifically, three blocks from the Free Clinic.

Before the shuttle car pulled up to a stop, I donned my mask before checking Alfred's vitals. I felt myself frowning when he didn't complain about me tending to him, concern growing when he barely even looked up at me as I hovered over top of him. Each of the tunnel stops had a small satellite cave and motorcycle waiting and ready, but I was still debating on the best course of action when we arrived. Carrying was a no. Doubling up on the cycle also seemed to be a poor decision.

Grappling and rooftop hopping was even worse.

The car finally slowed to a halt, having made the trek at an average speed of one-hundred and twenty miles an hour. Taking a second to regain my bearings, I turned to Alfred, calling his name softly before resting my hand on his uninjured shoulder. His eyes fluttered open, taking far too long to find my face.

"Here comes the fun part," I sighed, checking the bandages adhered to his shoulder.

"I shall grin and bear it, young sir," proving his determination by offering a slight smirk.

Helping him to his feet, I wrapped an arm behind his thin shoulders, supporting as we made our way out of the car and onto the narrow platform. The door was up a steel ladder with ten rungs and although he claimed he was capable of making his way up on his own, I told him to shush. Securing a grapple to the top, I made a makeshift harness and set the retraction to slow. As he inched upwards, I leapt up the ladder and opened the door before he arrived.

Just a three block hop, skip and a jump left, I mused.

As gently as I had at the manor, I hefted him into my arms and moved as quickly and smoothly as possible. He made a remark about my carrying him distracting me from spotting hoodlums. Forcing a smile, I told him to worry about holding onto his IV bag and that he was responsible for watching my back. Despite the evening's complete lack of good graces, we fortunately made the trek to the Free Clinic without running into any unsavory characters.

As I closed in on the rear parking lot, I activated the comm. link with the verbal command, "Dana Bryce."

Her line rang twice before her genuinely sweet voice greeted me, "Dr. Bryce."

"I'm going to need you in ready at the back door in two minutes."

She hesitated before asking, "Have you been shot?"

"No... but someone else has…"

"I'll be ready."

Her life had forever changed when she accepted a position at the Free Clinic. On its own accord, providing emergency and preventative health care to protagonists and antagonists of Gotham's East End was more than enough to change someone's life. But working at the clinic also meant there was an entirely different brand of patient that relied on her efforts. Ones that wore masks and only sought out medical treatment if they were on their death beds.

Her first true encounter with one of Gotham's masked guardians had been when Tim and Victor Zsasz had both lost their fight with one another. Victor had gone into police custody and had been taken to Mercy General to have his jaw wired back together. Tim had dragged his bleeding figure to the Batmobile and sent it on auto-pilot to the clinic. Leslie, along with Dr. Bryce, had managed to put him back together before he had bled to death.

Baptized by the blood of Batman.

When we reached the back steps, my arms were crying out with fatigue and Alfred's head was starting to loll. Before I could knock, the steel door that said "Staff Only" pushed open, revealing Dr. Bryce in pristine scrubs. The calm look on her face ebbed the second she recognized the figure in my arms. She didn't say a word as I carried him into the exam room, remaining silent as she securely shut the door behind us.

Despite the pained look in her eyes, her voice remained sure and soft, "Alfred Pennyworth, you just can't keep out of trouble can you?"

He forced a smirk to his lips before admitting, "Caught… red-handed."

As she started taking vitals and examining the wound, I found myself providing answers to questions she didn't even ask. I told the truth, or as much of the truth as I dared to, hinting that her loyalty to Leslie and to the masked faces of Gotham was more important than ever. I continued while she remained silent, her focus seemingly only on using a portable digital radiograph to take films of his torso.

Finally, when she administered heavy sedatives and local anesthetics to his shoulder, Dr. Bryce looked up at me.

"You have never and will never have to worry about my loyalty. Understood?"

"Yes, Doc."

After sighing, she looked to the monitor to where Alfred's ribcage was displayed, "The bullet is fairly superficial. Removing it won't be a problem, but he's not going anywhere tonight."

"I have to get him back to…" I started to protest.

"To where? Wayne Manor? That doesn't sound like too safe of a place right now." Since I was unable to suppress my shocked expression, she continued, "I'm sorry… I didn't mean it like that… Moving him is a bad idea in general, at least until morning. The wound itself isn't serious, but given his age… it's best to play it safe."

Voiceless, I simply nodded in agreement. Looking down at Alfred's unconscious form, an idea came to mind. "Fine, I trust you to take care of him… but that doesn't mean I can't leave you with some backup."

"Backup?" there was a fraction of fear that broke through her voice, "Are these people coming after him?"

Shaking my head, I answered, "No, but like you said, Doc, it's best to play it safe."

Stepping into the corridor, I used the comm. link to call Will's cell phone. Generally, after dinner with Ronna, he fell asleep in his recliner while watching ESPN. Surprisingly, he answered on the second ring, "Hello?"

"You are the only person I know that answers when a number is blocked."

He laughed softly, "I live life dangerously. What's up?"

"I need to ask you a huge favor."

"Need a babysitter?"

Glancing back to the exam room door as Dr. Bryce shut it behind me, I said, "In a way, yes."

^V^

Bruce was six years old when he fell into a cavern on the grounds, gashing his left knee open. Thomas had put seven pristine sutures in to close the wound, a shaken up boy putting a brave face on for every pinch. His father had taken charge of his only son's medical care from the day he had brought him home from the hospital. Many would have thought it a conflict of interest, but Thomas always had the boy's interest at heart.

He had told me once that if he couldn't trust himself caring for Bruce, he couldn't trust anyone.

"Well, except for you, Leslie," he had added, his mustache twitching as he had smirked.

When Bruce was seven, he fell climbing the great oak on the rear lawn, leaving him with a broken wrist and two of his baby teeth prematurely departing. Alfred had been watching him that afternoon and was positively devastated that the child had injured himself in his care. With Martha in the city for the day preparing for a charity event and Thomas literally elbow deep in surgery, Alfred had been instructed to bring Bruce to me.

It had been nothing more than a few hairline fractures to the radius and a sprain to the wrist. Bruce had watched in awe as I pointed out the injuries on his radiograph and his eyes had never left my fingers when I had secured his arm in a cast. The incisors he had knocked out had not chipped or broken, leaving him with a perfect gap on his lower jaw. After I had given him a lollipop, he had grinned, showing the stick protruding through the hole.

As Bruce had studied his arm, I had cleaned up the exam tray and chatted quietly with Alfred. His self-hatred was palpable, and despite my reassuring words that Bruce would be fine in a few weeks, he refused to adhere to them. He had remarked that from then on he would have to keep the child within arm's length and under stricter supervision. At one point, I had set a hand on his shoulder and said, "He's a little boy, Alfred… Let him act like it while he still can."

A year later, Martha and Thomas were dead and Bruce was no longer a little boy.

That dreadful night, I had held his shock riddled eight year old body tightly in my arms, my years of training and experience unable to mend his invisible wounds. He had felt so stiff and lifeless, his eyes as cold and dead as those of his parents. When Alfred had arrived to retrieve him, I had waited until I was alone in order to let my tears flow. I had felt helpless for the first time in my adult life. And tragically, it had not been the last.

Being dragged away from a bleeding Alfred and a seizing Bruce had left me in a similar state.

I tried to keep up with my captives as they stormed towards one of two helicopters. Both had landed on the pristine lawn, the force from the rotors sending what few leaves remained on the nearby trees flying. Although I tripped twice, they did not slow their stride in the least, simply dragging me by the arms until I managed to right myself. There was no denying that the beginnings of shock were creeping over me, the sudden onslaught on the Manor, finding Alfred laying on the floor, the uncertainty of what was to come…

Craning my head around, I caught glimpses of Bruce as another pair of men carried his twitching form. I feared that he was to be loaded in the other aircraft but allowed myself a moment of relief to see they were following us. As loudly as possibly, I tried to call out for them to put him down, but my voice had been overpowered by the helicopters.

Reaching the craft, I was promptly lifted and roughly set down on the rubber matted flooring. The two men that had taken me boarded as well, one keeping his gun trained on me while the other offered a hand to help others climb up. Lastly, the pair carrying Bruce arrived, throwing him into the helicopter as if he had been a duffle bag. I winced when he landed hard on the floor, his head nearly hitting a metal support bar of one of the seats.

Instantly, I leaned over him, quickly checking vitals as the convulsive movements ebbed to an eerie stillness. I felt one of the men looming over me, but when no one interfered, I resumed my work. Although his pulse bounded under my fingertips, Bruce's respiration was practically nonexistent. As with the serious bouts he had endured over the last few months, his brain had yet to click back on, leaving his body to fight for itself.

An ectopic heartbeat left him with mild irregularities in cardiac activity, a ripple effect leaving an irregular rhythm and strength in his pulse and breathing. His chest cavity swelled and shrank intermittently as his lungs begged for air. I held my own breath until he was able to gasp on his own, hungrily drawing in oxygen before exhaling loudly. Keeping my fingers on the inside of his wrist, I sighed with relief as his pulse became more steady with each breath he took.

That was until I heard a low, angry voice from behind me, "Good, he's alive."

I had turned and looked up at the red-headed monster that claimed to be Jason Todd. He appeared to be staring solely at Bruce, his eyes painfully unfeeling. Not an ounce of the light and life that had once been there, always paired with mischievous smirks and clever remarks.

Before I could utter a word, he turned towards the cockpit and called out, "Let's go!" then turned to me and said, "Eyes on your patient, doc."

Without a word, I did as I was told. My eyes, hot and glassy, trained themselves on Bruce's bloodied face. Surrounded by dark clothed men strapped into seats, we were left unsecured on the floor, feeling every shift the aircraft made and every gust of wind that fought against it. The only sounds had been Bruce's labored breathing and the whir of the rotors, both all too deafening.

A cursory exam yielded that on top of his post-convulsive state, he had cracked ribs, a bruised trachea and his abdomen was tender and rapidly bruising. Bruce's nose had been broken as well, slowly leaking dark blood over his lips. His already struggling left leg was swelling after enduring a significant strain, or worse, a fracture. They had showed him no mercy, as if it had been two decades earlier and he had still been the face behind the cowl.

Ten minutes into the flight, I found the nerve to look back up at Jason as he stood behind me, holding onto a metal grip with a gloved hand. When he spotted me, I pleaded, "He needs a hospital, he needs medication…"

Jason shook his head, then set his sights back to the outside world as it flew by, "He'll be fine."

"He has internal bleeding…"

Without warning, Jason lifted his foot and stomped his heel into Bruce's abdomen sharply. Although I gasped in shock, Bruce did not so much as flinch. Jason then locked eyes with me once more before replying, "You're right, he probably does."

I wanted to demand how he could have struck out at the Family that had once been his but I was unable to find the nerve or words. Instead, my gaze fell back to Bruce's still face, my hand sneaking between us to latch onto his. I didn't realize that I was crying until I tasted the tears on my lips.

Although a lie, I said, "I'm here… and everything's going to be all right."

While monitoring his vitals, I kept the world outside in my peripheral vision. The changes in the air and tree lines suggested we were moving inland as opposed to down the coast, a southwestern direction of travel. Adding in the time we spent in the air, I wasn't surprised when the aircraft began its descent over the Gotham County Edmund T. Barlett Memorial airstrip.

I had used it at least a dozen times returning from treks from Africa a lifetime ago.

Touching to the ground, the men immediately rose from their seats and leapt out of the helicopter. Protectively, I continued my tight hold on Bruce's hand, my eyes darting left and right but unable to keep track of so many moving figures. Jason debarked in one, smooth jump but chose to stand just outside of the helicopter bay doors. He barked something at the man standing beside him. As hard as I tried to read his lips, my eyes had found something else to focus on, namely the military transport plane that was ready and waiting on the runway.

As dread started to take hold of me, I felt Bruce's fingers gently squeeze mine.

A sliver of hope.

It was a light pressure, his fingertips barely exerting force as they touched mine. It was a conscious effort, the hold not jerky or ebbing, but steady and certain. I asked as loudly as I dared to, "Can you hear me, Bruce?"

Unexpectedly, his eyes fluttered open, only for a moment before the lids fell back down. He then forced them back up, revealing bloodshot whites surrounding icy blue irises. In spite of the bruised trachea, he tried to speak but it came out as a slow, raspy mumble.

"It's okay, I'm here… I'm here, Bruce."

"Les… lie."

"Shh…" I said before gently touching his brow with my free hand. The fact that he had regained conscious so quickly following the episode eased some of the worry I was enduring. He still required a neurological evaluation but the fact that he had managed to croak out my name was a good sign.

Before I could offer any further reassurance, Jason leaned forward and called out to me, "Let's go, doc."

Turning to face him, I spotted his out stretched hand and the stern look on his face. Behind him, two of his men were waiting and ready with an empty gurney, outfitted with five point restraints. They were prepared for a wounded captive, I thought to myself as something cold churned in my gut.

Squeezing Bruce's hand even harder, I shook my head, "No, I'm not leaving him."

He offered me a second chance and from the glare in his eyes, it was going to be my only one, "Now, doc."

I defiantly set my jaw, unwilling to move an inch voluntarily.

"Fine… be that way," Jason shook his head before leaning into the bay, viciously grabbing hold of my ankle before yanking it.

Despite my protests, he persevered, forcing me out of the helicopter and dropping me onto the ground. I felt something pop in my wrist as I landed but it did not stop me from trying to climb to my feet. Jason immediately wrapped an arm around my waist in order to lead me away from the helicopter. I continued to resist, looking back only to see Bruce also being roughly dragged out of the bay and loaded onto the gurney.

My voice was drowned out by the engine of the plane as its engines primed, "Bruce! I'm still here!"

"He can't hear you, doc," Jason growled into my ear, the tension in his voice was matched by that in the arm holding me upright.

Ignoring him, I called out again and again, unable to fight back tears as I watched him weakly struggle while being strapped down. Jason turned to look back only once, muttering something to himself. The other men that had been with us on the helicopter were already boarding the plane, still silent and unsympathetic. Two remained ground level, presumably to help load the gurney.

One stepped forward and bowed his head before speaking, "There has been no word."

Jason brought us to a stop, his torso yielding a heavy sigh, "None?"

"No, sire."

"God damn her…" he looked back to see the gurney approaching. He released his hold on me and said, "Load them up. She has five minutes, then we take off."

"Yes, sire," the man nodded slowly before reaching to put his hand on my elbow. Although I wanted to resist, to run back to Bruce, to escape into the woods, there was no point. If anything happened to me, there was no telling what would then happen to Bruce. Abandoning him was not an option, it never had been.

Save for one occasion. And we had both paid dearly for it.

I found my feet carrying me up into the plane, one climbing up after the other on the metal stairs. Rather than resist and strain my voice, I moved quietly and without resistance. The man had no visible weapon on him, save for years with the League of Assassins. Yet he gently guided me passed the others as they secured themselves in with buckles and harnesses. The interior had been modified with a small section closed off in the rear, passing through the solid metal door, I found it to be living quarters.

The bare minimum but it was certainly more comfortable than the thinly padded seats that the others were occupying. A pair of bunk beds were turned out with dark blue sheets and quilts a shade lighter. There was a small bathroom area, complete with sink and shower. To the left was a desk with overhead cabinets, one of which was marked with a red plus sign.

Ignoring the man ushering me, I immediately reached for the knob of the medical cupboard, not surprised to find it locked. Rather than reprimand me, the man spoke in broken English, his accent suggestive of western Europe, "It locked… don't touch."

I opened my mouth to demand it be opened when the gurney passed through the door and silenced me. The area itself was fairly specious given the plane's size, nearly sixteen by twenty four feet. Overhead lighting was far better than what had been in the helicopter, although it only displayed Bruce's poor state in better detail. When I moved to approach him, I felt the hand grasp my arm again, causing me to look back and ask, "Please… let me help him."

He didn't release me until after the gurney was locked into small divots in the floor. The moment I was free, I was at the stretcher's side, retaking slightly improved vitals and trying to get Bruce's attention once more. His skin was paler under the better lighting, his eyes appearing to have a more difficult time focusing. Lifting his soiled sweater, the cold twisting in my gut returned at the sight of bruises that had rapidly formed under the skin.

When I began to palpate his stomach, Bruce drew air in sharply and winced.

Both a good and bad sign.

As I proceeded with my exam, I heard Jason approaching, speaking sternly with one of his minions. When he passed into the small room, the others departed, shutting the door behind them. Alone with us, he spoke just as harshly as he had earlier, "Better buckle up, doc, we're taking off."

"He had a grand mal seizure… after you nearly beat him to death… he needs to be examined."

"Then you better make it quick," he snapped back as he took the seat on the far right, securing the belt across his lap.

There was a chair beside him and two more on the opposite wall, the latter being my eventual place when the plane departed. However, before I would allow myself to settle in for the next leg of our trek, I wanted to make sure I was able to do as much as I could for Bruce. Including asking Jason to unlock the medical cabinet.

"Why?"

"He's obviously in pain… you no doubt have a score of analgesics-."

Jason hesitated before responding, "You know what he used to tell me? That pain was a weakness. That we had to endure it, not succumb to it." He sat back as the plane shifted around us, "He'll endure it. Just like I did."

His name passed through my lips for the first time that evening, "Jason, please…"

My words fell once more in his unwilling ears.

Rather than grow silent, I spoke loud and clear, "You know… after he has an episode like that… I ask him simple questions when he comes to. Questions he knows the answers to without thinking… What time it is… where he is..."

Looking over my shoulder at Jason, I lowered my brow, "I can't ask him any of those… because even I don't know the answers."

"Then ask him something else," he replied, entirely unphased.

I sat down carefully on the gurney, gently placing my hand on Bruce's bruised cheek. It took some effort, but his eyes found mine shortly before he rasped, "Les…lie."

"It's okay…" I repeated my lie once more, "I'm here… Bruce… What's Mattie's middle name?"

A look of confusion marked his brow for a moment, causing my heart to flutter. Then, he managed to say, "Eliz-beth."

"And when was Nate born?"

"Jul-y…. ten,"

I smiled down at him as tears found their way to my eyes again, "Who are you married to?"

He swallowed hard and answered, "Sel-ina."

^V^

After eight minutes, I hoped that the power would never come back on.

I would have much preferred to sit in the darkness of the costume vault with Terry for infinity than have to explain its contents under the halogen lighting. Even with its own battery back up, the vault automatically directed its power resources to countermeasures and security as opposed to comfort. It was meant to be a safe house for the costumes of Gotham's protectors… or the protectors themselves in an emergency.

Or their kids.

My heart was beating loudly in my temples, nearly as loud as Terry's breathing as he sat beside me. I wanted to tell him it was going to be all right, that we were safe, but I didn't want to lie. My mind kept drifting to the worst possible scenarios, such as my mother and brother arriving home to find armed and dangerous men in the house or Alfred and Leslie being harmed while standing up for the Family. Or that the Manor was on fire above us from the explosion, that Dick and Tim and Cass were all being hunted down as well.

Or that the bullet fired had hit my father…

My morbid thoughts were interrupted as the light bands that outlined the floor of the costume vault started to glow, followed quickly by the overhead ones embedded into the titanium ceiling. My heart, which had been bounding a moment earlier, suddenly skipped a beat out of dread.

My eyes instantly adjusted to the illumination and immediately found Terry's face as he stared in wonder at the wall to our left. It held shelves of masks, gloves, utility belts and body armor plates, all grouped together based on who they belonged to. Wide-eyed, he shifted his gaze passed me and to the right hand side, where racks held tunics, leggings, boots and an endless supply of batarangs, grapple cartridges along with smoke pellet packs and explosive gel vials in ballistic cases.

"Mattie?"

I hesitated before responding, "Yeah?"

Terry finally looked at me before asking, "Is there… a reason your dad has a panic room full of Batman stuff?"

I exhaled slowly, then gave a partial answer, "Yes… there is a reason."

When I said nothing more, I felt him shift to face me on the bench, "Mattie… what's going on?"

Not lying, I replied, "I don't know."

"Upstairs… the alarms, the power," he took his cell phone from me, "We need to call the cops."

Without warning, I struck at his wrist, causing the phone to fly out of his hands and smash into the metal grate of the floor. He jerked away from me in a way that caused me to hate myself for reacting without thinking. The look of fear on his face was one I had put there, not the explosion, gun shot and screaming…

"Terry… I can't let you do that… I'm sorry."

"Why not?"

"Because… I just can't."

Terry's fear gave way to confusion before he asked a second time, "What is going on?"

Dad had said for me to take him all of the way downstairs.

The price of keeping him safe had been exposing the Family secret.

Terry was Family… bound not by blood but by flesh, as was Dick, Tim and Cass.

"We can't call the cops because they can't help us. Not from people that would come after my family."

"What do you mean they can't help?"

I exhaled slowly, surprised to feel my heart slowing as an eerie calmness washed over me. When Dad had told me the truth, his brow had been wrinkled with worry and his eyes filled with pain. I felt the opposite as I started with, "The people that would come after my family are people the cops can't find… that they can't fight."

He remained silent, his lips tightly pressed together.

I rose to my feet and stood before the racks of masks on the wall, "The people that would come after my family… are the people that would come after Batman. People that only he can find… and fight."

My focus moved to the cowl on the top left corner, the one marked with a bullet hole in the left temple, barely coated in a fine layer of dust, "My dad's never been in a single accident in his life… Every scar is from him saving someone's life… He spent twenty years saving people until he just couldn't… that's why he had knee surgeries. That's why he had to get radiation. That's why he looks fifteen years older than he is."

Without looking back at him, I kept my gaze on the blank lenses of Nightwing's mask, "And Cass and Dick… They both have spent their entire lives behind a mask, behind secrets. But Dick was always too bright, too optimistic to wear the cowl… He was meant to be Batman…"

I reached up and touched the cowl that sat waiting and ready, "But Tim was."

"My dad wasn't mugged in Crime Alley in April... The Joker killed Tim's parents and he couldn't… he couldn't do it… he couldn't wear the mask and face the Joker… and not kill him for what he did… My dad had to… had to... Even though he knew he couldn't win."

When I turned to look at him, Terry's mouth was agape in shock, his eyes wide in disbelief.

Sighing, I then offered, "That's why we can't call the cops, Terry. Because if my Family can't take them down, no one can."

He rose to his feet suddenly, walking three steps away before turning back to me, "I can't believe this… your whole life… your whole family…"

"I've only known for a couple of years. Dad tried to hide it from me… to protect me. Like I did to you."

He stared at the masks for a full minute before whispering, "Your dad is Batman."

"Was. After what happened with the Joker, Tim came back… Dad will never do it again. That's for sure."

Terry was silent for another minute before he asked, "What about you?"

My suit was in the safe at the rear of the vault, physically out of sight and mind until my training was complete. I decided to mentally bring it out into the open, "There was another… a woman. She wasn't close to us… wasn't really part of us… but she died trying to protect our secret. Huntress. When I'm ready, when I'm trained… that's who I'll be."

"I…" he shook his head as he fell silent.

I wanted nothing more than to unlock the door, race up the stairs and save my Family from the unknown faces that had attacked the manor. I wanted Tim and Dick and Cass to beat every last thug into oblivion. I would have done anything to be there to catch the last one trying to escape out the back, knocking him out cold with a kick to the back of the head. Rather than sit helplessly, I should have been at my father's side, helping him back to his feet and making an old joke as he brushed himself off…

Instead, I stood quietly with Terry in the costume vault, unable to do anything.

A knock sounded on the vault door, causing both of us to jump. Listening carefully, I found it to be Morse code, the raps coming softly through the thick titanium. I jogged over, telling Terry to stay back, deciphering the words as best I could. Exhaling in relief, I put the pieces together as saying, "Mattie, it's Cassandra. Coast is peanut butter and jelly."

I depressed and held the yellow button for the mandated ninety seconds before the locks disengaged and the door opened with the hiss of hydraulics. Throwing myself at her, I wrapped my arms around Cass's back, closing my eyes tightly as I pressed my face into her shoulder.

"You okay?" she asked.

Unable to voice a reply, I nodded before letting go. When she spotted Terry, she didn't seemed surprised in the least, simply asking if he was alright as well.

"We're okay…" I said as I looked back and motioned for Terry to join us. As he did, I added, "We came right down when the alarms went off."

Cass glanced over her shoulder towards the elevator door the sound of wheels on granite echoed. I glanced as well in time to see Tim approaching the stainless steel doors with a gurney. My heart resumed its pounding from earlier before I was able to ask, "What happened?"

"Not sure yet… we just got back a few minutes ago. Tim wants me to take you two upstairs to wait for your mom and brother."

I had to physically force myself to look away from Tim to ask, "But what about… whoever is up there?"

"They're gone… it's safe now. I promise." Her tone was convincing, her face calm and certain but her eyes gave it away. Dark brown irises that were far too often unreadable told me that something was wrong. Something was terribly wrong.

"But what… who is the gurney for?" I felt panic creep into my voice.

Cass touched my shoulder, "We'll talk about it when we get upstairs, okay?"

"But-," I tried once more but she shook her head, dissuading me without saying a word.

We followed her across the main tier and as much as I wanted to watch Terry's reactions to seeing the Cave under its proper lighting, my focus was immediately drawn to the computer bay, the massive monitor alive with numerous windows. Two played security footage, one of the Cave's main tunnel entrance and the other of the rear atrium. Both were in disarray, the massive metal emergency doors of the tunnel with a smoldering hole and the tattered remains of a cycle. The footage from upstairs showed a massive gap where the French doors had once been, destroyed furniture and shattered glass.

Along with a giant bloody stain on the pristine rug.

Climbing the stairs, I fought the urge to rush passed Cass and run to the back of the Manor in order to see the damage for myself. Instead, once we reached the study, I walked alongside Terry as we followed Cass to the study and then to the den. I had one hundred questions to ask her and another one hundred more things to say to Terry but I remained silent as I took a seat on the leather sofa. It was my favorite one in the room, mostly because it was the perfect length for me to cuddle up with Dad while he sat and read the paper…

Terry sat beside me, also not saying a word. After a moment, I leaned over and set my head on his shoulder, barely gaining comfort when he wrapped an arm around my back.

I had no idea how much time passed, but it felt like hours before my brother appeared with Ace at his side. He said that Mom had told him to come hang out with us while she talked to Tim. Clearing my throat, I sat up and away from Terry, but before I could do anything else, Cass locked eyes with me and shook her head.

My brother was granted a second lease on childhood after my father told him the truth this spring, enduring far too much far too young. While my father had been lying in a coma, Tim had stepped forward, asking J'onn J'onnz to put a temporary mental block in place. As a result, while my guts churned in worry, he was content to sit on the floor and play with Ace while we waited. And waited.

"What's all over you, buddy?" I heard my brother ask as he stroked the scruff of his German Shepherd, "You're all sticky… If you got in the garbage, Alfred's gonna be mad…"

Cass, who had been sitting alone in the arm chair closest to the door as a means of guarding it, told him to run to the bathroom across the hall and wet a hand towel. Returning, he went to wipe the dog down but Cass took it from him, instead directing him to pick out a movie for everyone to watch. With Nathan occupied, she called Ace over and scrubbed at the dried mess on his neck. Even though the towel was a navy blue, it was coming away with dark patches on it, indistinguishable from afar.

But the red splotch that showed up on Cass's hand proved it was blood.

I wasn't sure if the dog or myself was the first to detect footsteps approaching from the hallway. We both jerked our heads around to the right to the doorway, although where I remained put, Ace trotted away from Cass and towards the entrance. Rather than growl and stand stoically, he wagged his tail and made a soft whining noise, then greeted my mother and Tim by circling around behind and then walking between the two of them.

"Hey, big guy," Tim patted the dog's broad head.

"I'm bigger than him," Nathan called out as he returned to the group wielding a DVD.

Tim smirked, "You're taller. He's still bigger." He then looked to Terry and I as we remained seated on the sofa. Something tugged at the corners of a mouth, forming what should have been one of his smirks. Instead, it made the frown that followed all the more painful to see.

Almost as painful as the look on my mother's face.

Despite her red eyes, she managed a warm smile as she approached Nathan, leaning over and kissing the top of his head, "Well, dinner is waiting in the kitchen… You want to help Cass get it ready for everyone?"

"Good, cause I'm starving," my little brother set the movie down on the table before racing to the door, "Come on, Ace! Let's eat!"

Cass rose and followed after him, although with less enthusiasm. With just the four of us remaining, I suddenly didn't want to know what happened. I didn't want to know why Ace had dried blood on him, why the back of the house was in pieces and why my mother had been crying. I just wanted to start the night over, to stay in my room with Terry, to eat dinner with my family and to go to bed with Taffy and a smile on my face.

I just wanted everything to go back to normal.

Terry was the first to speak, "Are you… Are you going kill me? Because I found out?"

Tim glared down at him and then smirked for real, "No… but that's because Batman doesn't kill." He paused briefly before adding, "You and I will talk later… in the meantime, why don't you go help Cass keep Nathan from eating everyone's food."

"Yes, sir…" Terry nodded his head rapidly then looked to me before rising and walking out of the room.

And then there were three.

The smirk faded from his lips as Tim inhaled deeply, taking to crouching in front of me. The simple gesture had the hair standing up on the back of my neck and the cold feeling in my gut turning to ice. I sat upright, hands gripping the leather couch cushion as if it was my only way of staying on the Earth. I didn't even notice that Mom had taken to sitting beside me, my focus entirely on Tim's face.

"Mattie… The League of Assassins came here tonight. They knew when to strike because Talia is still working for them."

"Where is she?"

"At the Watchtower with J'onn. She was supposed to join them tonight but I wasn't going to let that happen."

I swallowed hard before asking, "Why did they come?"

He cleared his throat, put a hand on my knee and answered, "Because they wanted your father. They took him… and Leslie to take care of him. In… the process of doing so, Alfred was shot… but he's going to be okay, Dick took him down to the Free Clinic."

He continued on to say that he had leads as to where they were going and that he intended to use Talia to track them down. I barely felt Mom rubbing my back with her hand. Everything felt numb and muffled, as if it was a bad dream and I was slowly coming back to reality. That I had stayed up too late the night before and had slept through my alarm clock and Dad was at my bedside trying to wake me.

Except it wasn't a dream.

And he wasn't there to say, "Good morning, kitten."

^V^

When I woke, my first thought was that the black out drapes had already been pulled back, letting in cold, bright morning light.

Second, I had no recollection of having gone to bed the night before.

Third, I had a vicious headache.

Still not entirely awake, I barely recognized the feline presence beside me. Moving my head to the left, I spotted Kitten sprawled out on top of the covers, his tail twitching softly as he half-slept. Never able to resist torturing him, I reached my left hand out and pinned the tip of the appendage down gently. Rather than spin around and seek instant retaliation, the kitten rolled onto his back and stared at me with sleepy eyes.

"You and me both, pal," I whispered roughly as I rubbed his full belly.

It seemed odd that he was allowing the affectionate gesture, causing me to retreat my hand before he changed his mind. He seemed genuinely upset that I had taken to ignoring him, staring at me briefly before rolling back to his side. When I shifted to lay facing the ceiling once again, he quietly rose to his feet and hopped off of the bed, no longer interested in me.

Very odd.

My left hand burned suddenly and as I lifted it, I wondered if he had already left his mark there from an overnight attack. Although my middle finger and wrist felt as if they had fresh scratches on them, there wasn't a single mark. Just in my peripheral vision, I watched as he slowly sauntered across the bedroom floor and out into the hallway.

Very odd, indeed.

Closing my eyes again, I tired to lull myself back to sleep, using breathing exercises to calm myself and attempt to push away the pain in my head. Unfortunately, it was shortly joined with an aching in my stomach and a tightness in my chest. My throat as well felt raw and sore, forcing me to wonder if I had caught something over the last week and it had arrived to ruin my weekend. Even still, the regular aches associated with illness didn't entirely match the pain that was registering.

In all honesty, I felt as if I had gone through an all out brawl and lost.

Ignoring the discomfort, I tried putting the pieces together from the previous night, only to find everything a complete blank. Not even diner with the kids or what could have possibly left me feeling so sore and painful. Sitting on my bed suddenly registered, the sun already set and the black out drapes pulled over the darkened windows. For some peculiar reason, I looked to the far wall, certain I had thrown the phone at it the night before but instead found it safely in the cradle on Selina's night stand…

Perhaps I had endured a seizure, pushing myself for far too long on little rest and on high octane stress. There was only so much my skull fracture fuzzed brain could tolerate and tragically, I would never adhere to its limitations. Never had, never would.

However, that mysterious something loomed in the back of my mind, something I needed to concern myself with but was unable to bring to clarity. Regrettably, without being able to appease my curiosity on my own, I would also be unable to fall back asleep. That, and the throbbing in my skull and abdomen certainly wasn't helping matters. A long, hot shower, breakfast with the kids and a quiet chat with Selina would hopefully right my gyroscope.

Or at least fill in the blanks.

Just as I was about to force myself to rise for the day, I felt a weight ease onto the mattress beside me. Opening my eyes, I found Selina sitting there, smiling for seemingly no reason at all. Oddly enough, I felt as if she should have been upset with me although I was unable to pinpoint why. The form of her lips was matched by a softness in her eyes, one suggesting I was either off the hook or about to meet my maker.

"Morning," I croaked as I reached for hearing aides on the bedside table.

She beat me to it, retrieving them from their case and placing them in my left hand. I stared at them for a moment, along with the wedding band that was snugly on my ring finger. The burning from the invisible wounds had started to radiate up my hand, begging to be itched and sated. Shaking my head, I inserted the devices and activated them before sitting upright, wincing as I slowly sat back into the pillows.

Selina's smirk ebbed a fraction, "I was just coming up to get you. Mattie wanted to know whether or not to make you breakfast, brunch or lunch."

"Lunch is fine," I replied as I went about popping each shoulder and elbow individually.

Selina shook her head before sighing, "Snap, crackle, pop."

Her words seemed oddly familiar, but again I couldn't place it. Instead, I found myself answering, "That's me… Might go back to bed… feel awful."

"Well after last night…"

"After last night what?" I asked. The muffled memory had started to take shape. I distinctly remembered calling her cell phone and leaving a message, but about what I had no clue. "What time did I go to bed?"

"We went to bed around eleven… didn't go to sleep until after midnight," the smile had returned as she moved to lay beside me, resting her head on my chest and draping an arm over my bare torso. I flinched under the pressure and she asked, "Little tender are we?"

The intense pressure in my abdomen felt as if it should have been paired with massive bruising but as I watched as her fingers trace over my bare skin, there wasn't a single one.

"Well worth apparently," I remarked, entirely not convinced. Rather than voice my uncertainties, I continued as I circled my left arm around her back, setting my hand on her hip, "I thought you were mad at me for some reason. But I guess not."

"Quite the contrary, Mr. Wayne," she teased as she continued dragging her fingers gently over my skin. Even with her presence, I continued to feel awful, practically sick to my stomach. In addition, there were sharp pains running up and down my sternum, leaving every breath a fiery agony. I muscled through it, breathing deeply and slowly in order to simply attempt to enjoy a moment with her.

She went on about how she wanted to take the kids to the aquarium that afternoon, and that she was going to see if Dick and Barbara would be interested in joining us, along with Ethan. Something tugged at the back of my mind, a faint reminder that I had something to take care of but couldn't grab a hold of it. In the months following my fall to the Joker, my short term memory had taken leaps and bounds as far as improving but every once in a while, I was reminded of just how much I had lost.

Her voice interrupted my thoughts, "Why would I be mad at you?"

"I don't know… some reason I felt as if…" an image flashed before my eyes, of her wedding and engagement rings sitting along on the bathroom counter. Before continuing, I looked to her left hand to see them in their proper place, "As if we had a fight."

"About what?"

Although the green eyes that stared up at me were clear and bright, for a moment they appeared to me as glassy and tear-filled. I blinked hard and shook my head, "I don't know."

"Bruce?" Selina asked, setting a hand on the side of my face.

Clearing my throat, I bluntly replied with, "Did I have a seizure last night?"

Selina looked up at me, "No… why?"

"It just… last night's kind of foggy... In fact, all of yesterday is."

She sat up slowly, propping herself up with a hand on the mattress and the other on my chest. I was unable to hide the wince at the simple touch and Selina's face was suddenly lost in worry. "Are you okay?"

"I'm… I… probably picked something up over the week, the flu maybe…" I offered my weak explanation when a sharp stabbing sensation registered in my stomach. I reacted without hesitation, leaning forward and pressing a hand to the epicenter of agony while letting out a gasp.

"I'm going to go get Leslie…" she started to rise from the bed, but when I had a vision of Leslie being dragged away by a masked man, I panicked and grabbed a hold of Selina's hand.

"Don't…" I managed through a sharp exhale of pain.

"Bruce, what's going on?" she reclined beside me, trying to pull my head up in order to look at her. My eyes were unable to find hers as another image came forward, one of racing after Mattie down the stairs in near complete darkness, of me following her one agonizing step at a time. Another flash and Alfred was laying on the rear atrium rug, bleeding to death while I was mere yards away.

It was as if I had gone back fourteen years, trapping myself in the bathroom as amnesiac visions tortured my mind…

"Selina…" I whispered, trying to catch my breath as a vice-like throbbing radiated from my left knee.

While one hand gripped mine, the other cupped m face. Her lips grazed mine, tears finally falling from her eyes, "I'm here, Bruce."

"Selina." I whispered again, my eyes closing on their own.

"I'm here, Bruce," she replied, but her voice had changed, sounding softer, lighter…

When my eyes fluttered open, I wasn't writhing in agony in the master bedroom of Wayne Manor. My wife wasn't trying to comfort me, nor were my phantom wounds imaginary. Nose broken, I could taste the dried blood o my lips as well as the remnants that had dripped down the back of my throat. The tightness in my chest was paired with at least two broken ribs and an unknown amount of fractures to my sternum.

Had I been physically capable of sitting up to look, no doubt my abdomen was black and blue from top to bottom.

But where the images of Selina had been faded, there had been someone holding my hand and cupping my face. Telling me that it was going to be all right.

"Les-lie.." I managed, although the simple act made my swollen throat reel in pain.

My vision cleared some, at least enough to see the deep worry lines on her brow and the painfully forced warm smile on her lips. Halogen lights overhead made focusing on my surroundings a task, but the small vibrations and endless hum suggested we were on a plane. Even moving my head took effort, especially since it resulted in my neck screaming in rebellion.

I was on a gurney, strapped down in five point restraints. The band of polypropolene over my chest was bad enough, but the one buckled down over my swollen left knee was next to unbearable. The cabin we were in was small, metallic and not designed for comfort, suggesting transport plane as opposed to a private passenger aircraft.

The answer to where I was, why I was restrained and how I received numerous injuries was provided when I spotted Jason Todd securely buckled into his seat, staring directly back at me.

"It's okay…" she squeezed my hand as she sat on the gurney beside me. "Bruce, I'm here."

Looking up at her once more, I realized I had not passed out or had been rendered unconscious. The look on her face was one I had seen dozens of times over the last few months. The tone in her voice as she asked me simple questions was familiar as well. It had become a tragic routine, one that followed every tonic-clonic seizure, a routine I would endure for the rest of my life.

Although given my current predicament, I had to wonder just how long that meant…

"What's Mattie's middle name?"

Mattie. I hadn't named her. The shadow I had lived in for over a year while recovering from amnesia had.

Mattie. My little kitten all grown up. She and Terry had been in her bedroom earlier that evening, although at the time I could have cared less about his unannounced visit. I had sent them running downstairs ahead of me, crossing paths with Alfred and Leslie. They were to take them to the Cave, secure everyone in the vault.

Alfred had come back, as had Leslie.

Mattie…

When the concern in her eyes had increased in my delayed response, I answered her through a dry croak, "Eliza-bet."

"And when was Nate born?"

On the day Barbara and Dick were married. Two months premature. Sending him in the neonatal ICU, leaving my wife barren and putting the entire Family through the wringer.

Selina and I had lived at the hospital and the hotel across from it for two months while we waited to take him home. Waiting to see him nestled in his bassinet beside our bed as opposed to a sterile incubator.

Nathan had been under Tim's care earlier that afternoon, given that I couldn't have been bothered to watch him or even spend an hour with him. I had been too busy worrying about Talia and Jason and Ra's to even ask him about his day at school.

Every day of his life was a gift, a gift I took for granted far too often.

"Jul-y…. ten."

Her smile seemed more genuine, but was suddenly joined by teary eyes.

"Who are you married to?"

Moving the pinkie of my left had carefully, it rubbed against the bare patch of skin on the neighboring ring finger

When I still wore the cowl, I left the ring in the safe of the costume vault each night before patrols. Selina had initially assumed that it did not fit under my glove comfortably or that it was better left at home then out and about on the town.

I should have left it at that.

After I retired, I had foolishly taken up the guise of Matches Malone to help Tim in an arson investigation. Before leaving, I gave the ring to Selina each night seeing how my counterpart wasn't married. My efforts had aided them in unearthing a massive insurance scheme but at the cost of a building collapsing on top of me.

The last time I had removed the ring and given it back to her had been the night I fought the Joker…

She had never asked me why I left the wedding band behind over the course of our marriage but I had told her one night, even without being prompted.

"Why tell me, Bruce?" she had tried to stop me when I had brought the subject up.

It had been a lifetime ago, when Mattie was just four years old. It had been at the tail end of a vicious month long battle with a crime syndicate that had tried to sink its talons into Gotham's south side. Combined efforts between myself and my protégés had put a large portion of their higher ups in squad cars and the remainder a firm suggestion to vacate Gotham.

There had been a cost. Dick had been hit by a fleeing car, Tim had barely survived a brawl with a dozen armed men and I had taken two bullets, one to the leg and the other putting a new line of sutures on my side. Cass had been unscathed as she patrolled the entire city while we had taken on the mob. I distinctly recalled Alfred pointing out that the three of us were forbidden from working a case together ever again if it resulted in so much soiled gauze…

"Because," I had paused while limping to the bed. Alfred had given me crutches but I had left them in the medical bay, knowing he would only bring them up when he woke me the next morning. Once I had tenderly taken a set beside her, I had looked down and said, "It's more than just keeping it safe while I'm out."

She had stared up at me for a moment, more upset than angry that I had come home bullet ridden. The usual lot of injuries associated with my work had never bothered her, but after what had happened with Pasqualle, I couldn't have possibly blamed her for worrying. After a beat, she had asked, "Then what is it, Bruce? Sentiment? Not really your style."

I had sighed before answering, "There might be a night that I don't come back... And I want this to be safe… until I can."

"And what if you never come back?" the lightness had faded from her voice and her green eyes.

Before leaning in to kiss her, I had said, "Come what may, I will always find a way back. I promise."

Thinking of her lips on mine, of how she had then cracked a joke that I was lousy at keeping promises and of how I had held in my arms until she drifted asleep that night, I finally answered Leslie's question.

"Sel-ina."

^V^


	13. Come what May: XIII

Title: Come What May

Author: DC Luder

Rating: T

Summary: When push comes to shove…

Author's Note: I know… it's been a year. My sincere apologies. Let's get this show back on the road.

^V^

The look on my daughter's face would have been enough to break my heart, had it not already been shattered.

I sat beside her, my reddened eyes unable to leave her stoic face. Tim knelt before her, explaining what had happened in the time between when she had been playing video games with Terry to when Cassandra had opened the costume vault door. She was barely able to put her questions into words, asking them in brief, quiet sentences. The more he spoke, the more distant her eyes grew, soft azul turning to cold ice. Her lips were thin lines as they pressed together and when I touched her slender shoulders, I felt the weight of the world on them.

For the second time in one year, she had watched her father slip through her fingertips.

Tim rising to his feet finally drew my attention away from Mattie's face. As I looked up at him, he spoke, "I'm going back downstairs to check in with J'onn… I'll see about someone coming to secure the terrace doors."

I nodded, my own words failing me. The doors… an entire new wall needed to be put in…

He leaned over and kissed Mattie on the top of her head, whispered into her ear and then left.

Not twenty minutes earlier, Tim had been picking me up off of the study floor as I had fallen out of sheer shock. I had been unable to regain my senses, rambling on about how Bruce could have possibly left clues in the voicemail on my phone. He had tried to express that it was impossible given the extensive measures Talia had gone through to seal off the Manor from the world. Tim had relented nevertheless and agreed to retrieve the phone from my purse. As I had sat alone in the study, I found myself growing hopeful even though I should have known better. My breathing had finally evened out and the pounding in my ear drums had grown quieter.

I had felt as if I should have been engulfed with anger at Talia betraying the Family, particularly Bruce, but instead I was wholly consumed with worry for his and Leslie's safety.

Surely the fury would rise to the surface in due time…

Getting to my feet, I had slowly made my way over to the desk, seeing that it had not been cleared off as it had been every night I had spent in the great house. The laptop, although in sleep mode, had still been out, as had a hard cased onyx pen and a manila folder. The tab was marked SX Notes in Bruce's crisp penmanship. It had been open, revealing countless pages, both of printed x-rays and handwritten notes.

Early Christmas gift to me… agreeing to brace himself for another surgery on his leg.

I had been leafing through the printouts and reading his words as Tim returned, my cell phone in his right hand. Without hesitation, I had crossed the room, reaching my arm out for it. Although he had relinquished it to me, he had done so while saying, "I'm sorry… I listened to it."

At that moment, I could have cared less. As I keyed the device to life, I had asked, "What did he say?"

"It…" he had paused before looking at me, a twinge of shame in his eyes, "It was before they came."

"Are you sure?" I had countered with, not out of lack of faith in him but out of the desperate need for his answer to be different.

"I'm sure."

Staring at the phone in my hand, I listened as he said he was going to go speak with the kids in the den shortly, asking how I wanted to go about it. It had taken a solid minute before his words had sunk in, drawing out my delayed response, "We need to tell Mattie first… Terry… he's learned too much tonight as it is."

"And Nate?"

I had pictured my son from earlier that evening, how he had been smiling as he helped carry the bags of dinner from Santo's.

How he had practiced throwing solid spirals with Bruce in the back yard the other day.

How he had started summer by mastering tricks on his bicycle and dives in the pool.

How he had skipped crawling and gone straight to walking as a baby…

Finally, I had found my voice, "I'll tell him later tonight… After Mattie."

Minutes later, we were in the den, directing Cassandra, Nathan and Terry out of the room, leaving Mattie free to react anyway she wanted to. Being her father's daughter, I was not surprised to see her slowly close up, trying to contain whatever was going through her mind. When Tim left, I expected some sort of response or change in demeanor, but there was none.

Despite my frail state, I had to be there for her…

"Mattie?" I asked softly, rubbing my hand gently between her tense shoulders.

After I repeated her name, she blinked and looked up at me, her voice still painfully quiet, "Are they going to kill him?"

I was taken aback by her question, and it didn't help matters that there was no answer I could give her. Instead, I offered her, "You heard what Tim said… they took Leslie with them because they needed her…. To take care of him. They wouldn't have done so if they were going to kill him."

There was no change in her face, meaning my words had made no impact on her dark thoughts.

I squeezed her one arm gently, "Mattie, listen to me… Tim and Cass and Dick… Barbara… the Justice League… they are all working together… they will find Dad… and Leslie… and bring them home. Do you understand me?"

She nodded, the slightest tremble in her lower lip suggesting I was doing more harm than good.

"And besides… they've kidnapped your dad many times before… and he always gets the best of them. I know you've read the cases, kiddo… so you know it's true."

Mattie nodded again, swallowing hard before replying, "What about Terry?"

I exhaled slowly, "It's not the end of the world… if he was going to stick around, he would have found out eventually, right?"

"I guess."

"I'll take him home after I get Nate tucked into bed. But it's going to be a couple days before he come over again… and before you can go over there."

"I understand," she said, her voice starting to return to normalcy. There was a moment of silence before she inquired about her little brother.

"I'll worry about Nate," I leaned in and kissed her forehead, "You worry about you."

Her eyes softened as she nodded once more. I told her she should go to the kitchen try and eat something and she reluctantly agreed. I walked with her into the hall and for a few strides, making sure she was heading in the right direction. Before we parted ways, Mattie stopped me briefly by latching onto my hand with hers. When I looked down at her, she asked, "Are you not eating?"

Touching the phone in my pants pocket, I replied, "In a little bit, I'm going to go shower and change, then I'll be back down." She seemed wary of my answer, forcing me to add, "I'm okay, kiddo. Go eat before your brother devours everything."

I waited until she was nearly to the open arched entrance of the kitchen before I turned and backtracked towards the rear of the house. Before reaching my destination, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, preparing myself based on what Tim had described. Opening them, I found his words coming to life before mine, leaving my throat closing shut and my chest growing tight.

The French doors were gone, as was most of the wall. The thick carpet was sprinkled with broken bits of glass, wood and mortar. Although two of the overhead lights had blown, the remaining pair managed to spotlight two specific areas of the room, one being the drying pool of blood where Dick had found Alfred. The other had been the back right corner of the atrium, where there was not only a broken chair and speckles of blood, but also a visible crack and dent in the paneled wall.

Tim had said Bruce had put up a good fight. I didn't doubt it for a second…

My cell phone chirped from my pocket and I retrieved it frantically, foolishly hoping to see my husband's number on the display. Instead, it was a text message from Mattie and upon opening it, I found that it was a picture of Nate with a breadstick mustache as he pinned it between his upper lip and nose. A sad smile made its way to my face and as I put the phone back in my pocket, I decided I could listen to Bruce's message after I tended to our children.

Arriving in the breakfast nook a few minutes later, I was surprised to see everyone in seemingly good spirits. I relieved Cassandra of watching everyone and noted that Tim had gone back down to the Cave. She nodded, grabbed his untouched takeout container from the table and bid everyone a good night before leaving.

Although I wasn't the least bit hungry, I did my best picking at my chicken Marsala, making it appear as if I was doing more than moving bits of mushrooms and chicken around my plate. Mattie had opted to share her ravioli with Terry where Nate had put an impressive dent into his calzone, considering he had snacked on bread sticks and eaten nearly everyone's croutons from their side salads. I asked if Terry wanted to try any of the other dishes but he silently shook his head.

"Well, after we get done eating, and I get this vacuum cleaner to bed," I nodded towards my son, "I can take you home… did you need to call your Dad to tell him when you'd be back?"

Terry shook his head again then forced words through his tense lips, "No… he's away until tomorrow night… and… Tim… said he was taking me home."

"He did?" I asked.

"Yeah… he… he was here for a minute before you came in… said he would… that… he…"

"Wanted to talk to you?" I finished for him.

He all but winced, "… Yeah."

I genuinely felt for the boy. No doubt Tim only wanted to make sure he fully understood how important it was to keep what he had learned to himself, as well to make sure he had no questions or concerns about what had transpired earlier. Tragically, Terry had a penchant for action and spy movies and was probably already convinced he was as good as dead.

Sure enough, just as we were washing and drying the last of the dishes, Tim appeared in the kitchen, offering to go out with Nate to walk ace one last time. Although he was putting on a good front, it was not good enough. As Nate donned his sneakers just inside of the service entrance, I asked if they had learned anything and he shook his head, adding, "Dick is on his way back soon… Alfred is stable but Dr. Bryce is keeping him there for the night. We're going to meet when he gets here… but if you want to stay upstairs, we can talk after."

I nodded but said nothing as he followed Nate and Ace outside.

Leaving Mattie to say goodbye to Terry, I told her to have Nate come upstairs when he was done. Exhausted, more mentally than physically, I opted to ride the elevator up to the third floor. Under the corridor's dim lighting, I navigated to Nate's bedroom and then his attached bathroom. Wanting him in a calm mood before I sat down to talk to him, I started to fill the bath rub with hot water and lavender soap.

Anything to help make what I had to do easier.

Just as I was shutting off the water nozzle, Nate appeared in the doorway of the bathroom, fighting back a yawn. Ace looked equally exhausted, to the point that the big sable dog opted to collapse on his dog bed as opposed to supervising his master's bath time. I left Nate to play and soak in the tub while I went about picking up his room. Given Alfred's busy day, he most likely had been preoccupied with more important duties.

Alfred…

I turned down Nate's covers, adjusted his pillows and smiled to see the tooth was in fact still in place. I replaced it deftly with a dollar bill and felt an ounce better about the ordeal. As I sat down, I felt the phone in my pocket once more, the message still there waiting to be heard.

First things first…

Nate emerged from the bathroom in blue striped pajama shorts and a yellow tee-shirt, looking every bit the innocent six-year-old that he was. He climbed into bed, yawing once more before asking if Ace could come up and join him. When I obliged, he called the dog over and it lofted itself up with ease before lying directly beside my son.

"Where's Dad?" Nate asked suddenly.

Instinct took over for a moment, "He's… uh… he won't be home tonight, kiddo."

"Why not?"

I found myself unable to answer him and yet unable to lie. Instead, I found a place in the middle, telling him that he was out of town for a few days for work and that he would be home soon. That sated his inquiries and his next question was if he could watch a movie instead of reading before bed. I kissed his cheek and told him if he picked it out, I would put it in the player for him.

Nate grinned and readily replied with, "Jurassic Park."

Leaving him under the watchful eyes of his protector and his favorite "grown-up" movie, I returned to the hall just as Mattie was climbing the last of the steps. I waited for her to reach me before asking her if she was all right. She shrugged and said, "I don't know…"

"If you need me, you come get me, okay?"

Mattie bit her lip, nodded then said, "Same goes for you."

I watched as she walked to her bedroom, closing the door silently behind her.

Alone again…

Once I was in the safety of the master bedroom, I finally retrieved the cell phone from my pocket. Although I brought up my voicemail inbox, I waited to press play until I was seated on the bed, uncertain as to what was waiting for me. Given how angry our last words had been to one another, I expected an apology. What I hadn't expected were words so painfully saturated with remorse that they brought tears to my eyes.

"___I know you don't want to talk to me… but I hope you will at least listen."_

I would have given anything in the entire world to say one word to him…

"___You said this morning that I didn't understand why you were upset… but I do."_

I knew he had understood and yet I had coldly accused him otherwise…

"___I understand there is nothing I can say or do that will take back what I have done…"_

If he walked through the door right then and there, I would have forgiven him of anything he had ever done or ever would do…

"___But I want you to know that I regret hurting you. I regret every time I've brought tears to your eyes."_

His pillow was saturated in my tears…

"___I don't deserve your forgiveness, because I won't forgive myself."_

I had been wrong in blaming him, damning him…

"___I do love you, Selina… and as difficult as it may seem, everything that I have ever done was meant to protect you."_

I love you, too…

I listened to it again and again, the tears quickly turning to sobs as I paired his voice with his face, trying to picture him being there and apologizing to me in person. As to not wake my children, I muffled my painful cries into a pillow, the phone pressed to my ear as if it was his lips speaking into them.

When my tear ducts ran dry, I finally rose from the bed, feeling weak and disoriented. Looking at the bedside table, I was surprised to see it was nearly eleven. Suddenly not wanting to miss their meeting in the Cave, I jumped to my feet and made my way to the bathroom to freshen up. There was no undoing the red and puffy state of my eyes, but I took the time to wash my face and brush my hair. Putting the comb away, my eyes caught the glimmer of white gold on the counter, the rings I had left to spite Bruce.

When I went to replace them on my left hand, I noted that his was present as well.

Where I had done it out of anger, I knew that Bruce had removed his wedding band for the same reason he had any other time since I had first put it on his finger.

As I put it on my thumb, I heard his voice in my ears, "For safekeeping."

^V^

As with anything that I had ever asked of Will, he didn't hesitate to say, "Yes."

His interview so many years earlier, where I had offered him a full-time position with DJG Security after dropping a few over the top Gangs of New York jokes.

"_Yes, I'd love to... And no I'm not wearing plaid pants to work."_

Whenever I had asked him to lunch when we were swamped with work and appointments, his desk overflowing and phone ringing endlessly.

"_Hmm, a triple decker BLT or answering this damned phone... yes, let me grab my coat."_

Making him promise to hang on after the Joker had fired a bullet into his gut so that I could go hunt down his gunman.

"_Y-yes..."_

No matter what, Will had always answered in the affirmative without question. From the first day we met, he had always been someone I could count on, and in my life that was a rare liberty. Granted, I had and would always put my faith in any member of the Family, but there had been the few off chances when I had been turned away by them and even worse, let down.

But never with Will.

Tragically, there was a downside to being so reliable...

"Hello?"

I had forced my pained voice to soften in order to respond with a chide remark, "You are the only person I know that answers when a number is blocked."

Will had laughed softly, "I live life dangerously. What's up?"

We had a long standing joke that we shared the middle name of "Danger". Both retired detectives, he from the harsh streets of New York and I from the cold alleys of Bludhaven. We both had scars from what we had endured, those emblazoned on our flesh as well as on our souls. We only differed in that he had let his life on the force drag him through a vile divorce and endless custody battle where I had traded mine in for pure family bliss.

That's not to say there weren't Babzilla jokes dealt in the safety of my office...

"I need to ask you a huge favor."

"Need a babysitter?"

Glancing back to the closed exam room door, I said, "In a way, yes."

Not willing to relay too many details over the phone, and also wanting nothing more than to get back to Alfred's bedside, I had simply told Will to meet me in the rear parking lot of the Free Clinic. He had said he would be there in fifteen minutes, but whether he took the train, cab or his own vehicle, it would be at least twice as long before he showed. Not to his fault, but simply because the city streets at night were just as brutal if you were behind a wheel or a mask.

Thirty minutes. It had offered me just enough time to force myself to cope with the evening's events. Or at least come up with a way to pretend to, a feat considering what the night's events entailed...

Rather than remain in the corridor, I reached for the door handle of the exam room and pushed. Cracking it open just enough to peer in, I found Dr. Bryce carefully leaning over Alfred's torso with a portable digital radiograph camera, mapping out his internal structures and bringing them immediately to life on the screen on a nearby counter. When I had been shot for the first time, I had to painfully sit still under the large and looming radiograph machine that had taken up nearly half of a room just down the hall.

I smirked sadly, thinking how much Alfred hated modern gizmos and gadgets.

_Rubbish_...

As Dr. Bryce appraised the images, I slowly stepped into the room and shut the door behind me. With my limited medical training, I was able to spot an intact, small caliber bullet just underneath his collar bone. Jason Todd could have easily aimed three inches to the right and put Alfred Thaddeus Crane Pennyworth into his grave. He had meant to maim, not murder. The question was whether it had been his idea or that of his wicked mentor...

Without looking from the screen, Dr. Bryce set the camera down on the counter and said, "Missed the subclavian arteries... bullet was low velocity, I'm guessing... just made it into the minor pectoral muscle group."

Thinking as to when a bullet had blasted through my shoulder earlier that year, tearing muscle, nerves and vessels, I nodded slightly, "That sounds like a good prognosis."

She glanced up at me, pausing before replying, "It is. He's lucky."

"I feel as if there is a penny joke here..." I smirked at her.

After she offered a sad smile, Dr. Bryce continued, "I gave him a mild sedative, a local should be fine for extraction... I want to push type specific blood and fluids for now... get his pressure back up to normal."

"And then he can go home?"

Dr. Bryce stared at me for a moment before saying, "He's not going anywhere until I reevaluate him in the morning... He's lucky but I'm not about to test it anymore than I have to." She hesitated before asking, "Do you... have somewhere to go?"

"I do. I have someone coming to watch over him... to make sure he stays safe."

"Batman?"

I shook my head slightly, "No. He's going after who did this."

"And who took Leslie... and Mr. Wayne," she added for me.

"Yes," I answered, my tone dropping on its own. After a moment of listening to the cardiogram blip and beep, I added, "He'll bring them back."

She squeezed Alfred's limp hand briefly, "I hope so. For his sake."

Staring down at his pale, motionless face once more, I swallowed back the dreadful thoughts that had been trying to breech the surface since the alarms had sounded in the Cave. Those that had only grown harder to resist upon finding Alfred's bloodied form laying in the shattered remains of the atrium. For some, it would have been easy to pretend that there was no chance of them not being returned safe and sound, but I had been taught better...

I had seen worse.

Dr. Bryce's soft voice interrupted my thoughts, "Did they hurt her, too?"

"Not from what we've learned."

As expected, her next question was, "And Mr. Wayne?"

My moment of hesitation and the involuntary twitch of my lower lip was the only answer she required.

Before making matters any worse, I looked down at Alfred one last time then left her to do what she did best, heal the wounded. After four long strides, I made it to the end of the corridor and walked out through the rear entrance. Before the door closed behind me, I shot a grapple up the three-story building's rooftop and started to ascend. Once I retracted and secured the grapple gun to my belt, I opened up my comm link and cued the connection by asking, "O?"

Less than a second later, Barbara replied in a rushed voice, "How is he?"

I relayed Dr. Bryce's initial evaluation, explained that Will was coming to stand guard and that Alfred wouldn't be released until the morning. Barbara sighed, paused, then said, "That's good to hear. What did you tell Will?"

"Nothing yet... figured I'd do that face to face." Before she said anything, I added, "Any word from Tim?"

"He wants you back as soon as possible... he wants to meet before they head out after Jason."

An inkling of hope rose into my voice, "We have a lead?"

"I'm working on that... not to mention we're going to finish interrogating the hell out of Talia with J'onn's help-."

I cut in, "Is he bringing the rest of the League in?"

Barbara paused before saying, "I'm sure it has crossed his mind."

"Well, I'll see to it that it crosses it again," I responded, my tone coarser than I intended. "I'm sorry, Babs... I just... for this I think we need all of the help we can get."

Her voice was softer as she commented, "I'm not going to disagree with you. Our best chance of finding them before they disappear under the radar is to get all of the help we can. And as awful as it is to say, Bruce isn't here to complain about it."

"I can just imagine it... 'You asked who to help find me? Now I'll never hear the end of it... Next time, leave me kidnapped. It will be better off that way'," I offered in my best impersonation of Bruce's angry growl.

Barbara snickered softly before responding, "Spot on."

Picturing Bruce complaining about calling in his former allies to help save him should have brought a smile to my face, but I felt the corners of my mouth being pulled in an opposite direction. Granted he had survived all of his previous encounters with Ra's al Ghul relatively unscathed, he had done so in his prime. The League of Assassins had never been a match for his brains or brawn nor had their diabolical leader.

But he wasn't in his prime. Not even close. And it wasn't Ra's I was worried about so much as it was his new underling...

"Dick?" I heard Barbara ask, drawing my attention away from the images of the shattered atrium, Alfred's pale face and Jason Todd's empty grave that were swimming in my head.

"I'm here."

"... Are you okay?"

"Yeah... just... I'm going to get Will up to speed when he gets here... then I'll head up to the Manor."

She waited before replying, "Okay... let me know when you leave."

"Will do, O," I said softly before closing the connection.

Although somewhere in my mind, I heard the cars driving around the block as well as bits and pieces of conversations as pedestrians walked on the sidewalk below, they didn't register. In fact, all my mind wanted to do was replay the last few days, from finding Talia right up until the moment I crashed my bike into the Cave's emergency doors. Briefly questioning our only lead turned friend turned foe to finding out that Bruce was once married to her. Looking over the last few days, I realized how very little of it had been spent with Bruce or even in the days and weeks prior.

My last conversation with him had been just minutes before the League had infiltrated the Manor, gunned down Alfred and left Bruce and Leslie as hostages...

"Just like that, huh. It's over," I had remarked as Tim and Cass followed Talia and J'onn to the Watchtower.

Bruce had ominously replied, "You know better than anyone that it's only just beginning."

Before I had left him alone at the computer bay, I had felt obligated to let him know about Selina's morning visit to the Clocktower. About her her admitting to them fighting and the reasons behind the feud. Surprisingly, rather than ignore me, he had offered a curt, "I know," as his fingertips attacked the keyboard.

As with most of my life, I had been unable to keep my mouth shut. I had told him that I had understood why he had kept his brief marriage to Talia a secret from the Family, practically letting him know that I wasn't nearly as upset by the revelation as his wife had been. And in his typical fashion, Bruce had replied without so much as looking up at me, "Is that all?"

I had smirked and replied, "Yes," before about-facing and making my way to the costume vault.

There had been no way of knowing that would have been our final conversation prior to everything going to Hell. Despite the fact that I had reached out to him regarding the most recent hurdle in his married life... I couldn't shake the cold feeling that I should have said something else. Something more. That letting him shrug my words off of his shoulders had been a irreversible mistake.

The digital lenses of my my mask picked up a familiar license plate number as a black GMC Terrain quickly braked and then turned left into the clinic's parking lot. I looked on to see Will, bundled in his faded brown leather coat the pink had purple scarves his daughters had made for him for his last birthday. Rather than force him to wait in the cold or to waste any more time, I opted to leap down to the pavement, allowing my footfalls to make a sound.

Will spun around the face me, instinctively reaching for the Sig Sauer concealed beneath the bulky jacket. Upon seeing my masked face, he exhaled loudly, appraising me with his eyes. After a moment, he offered a forced smirk, "Doesn't leave much to the imagination, does it."

I found the corners of my lips tugging upward briefly at his comment, "No, it certainly doesn't."

"So I take it whoever I need to babysit is in there?" he nodded towards the Clinic.

My frown returned before I could respond, "Yeah... let's go inside."

He followed me through the back entrance and as much as I didn't want to, I bypassed the exam room I had left Alfred in and snuck us into a medical supply room. Amidst the sterile packs, surgical scrubs and boxes of three-cc syringes, I felt safe enough to remove my mask. Will immediately said that it wasn't necessary but I nodded, "Yes. It is."

The worry lines at the corners of his eyes deepened as he asked, "What's going on, Dick?"

The words came too easily and although I had intended on sugar-coating things with him, I realized that there was no need. He had been baptized in his own blood and brought into the Family when the Joker had brought terror back to the streets of Gotham. He had never once let me down, lied to me nor done anything that had not been in the best interest of our friendship. There was no reason to hide a single fraction of what we were facing from William Cutting.

So I didn't

I told him about Talia breaking into the Manor after we had all spent a week rejoicing and giving back to the city we loved so dearly. How she had claimed that her presence was to warn us of an impending attack from her father and a man we had thought dead for over a decade and a half. That in an attempt to prove her poisonous words false, Bruce and I had dug up the grave only to find no remains and that Talia had been telling the truth. I explained that we had put her under watch at the Manor, causing unrest amongst its primary residents, specifically Bruce and Selina.

He remained silent as I explained that from questioning her, we had learned of the last known whereabouts of one of our oldest foes and the man we had once known as Jason Todd. And from that information, we had just started to devise a plan to hunt them down when the tables had turned. Where Talia had stabbed us all in the back once more, leaving her father's men invading the Manor, taking Bruce and Leslie and leaving Alfred to die.

I found my voice growing quieter as I admitted that we had no leads, no idea why they had taken them or where they were headed.

When my words finally ran dry, Will spoke, "Alfred's here, I take it?"

Nodding, I responded with, "Yes. Stable. Dr. Bryce is removing the bullet now and keeping him overnight for observation. Hopefully, we can transport him in the morning back to the Manor."

"Is it safe for him... to go back to the Manor? After what happened?"

I swallowed hard before saying, "They already have what they want. They won't be coming back."

"I'll stay. All night. And if we can move him in the morning, I'll help."

"I can't thank you enough," I said, sincerity replacing the pain in my voice.

Will nodded, then raised a finger, "I just have to call my boss and let him know I won't be in."

Always making a joke in the most serious of moments.

It was no wonder we got along so well.

^V^

"All right, one more throw, then we have to go back in."

Nate looked up at me, back at Ace and then wound up his tiny arm and launched the tennis ball into the darkness of the rear lawn. Ace bolted out of the range of the exterior lighting, only the jingle of his Rabies and dog license tags giving his presence away.

As we awaited the dog's return, Nate asked why I had not joined them for dinner in the nook.

Technically, I didn't lie as I responded with, "Well... just not hungry, I guess."

"I'll eat it."

I glanced down at his mischievous grin and smirked, "Oh really?"

He nodded, "Really."

"Don't you think a half of a two pound calzone is enough?" I inquired.

"Maybe for you," he shot right back at me.

Although the night had given me no reason to for the foreseeable future, I couldn't help but laugh. Every day, Nate was looking more and more like his father, but it was his mother's charisma that was shining through. He had been a handful from a toddler on, not misbehaving but simply keeping everyone on their toes. Whether it was running bare-bottomed about the manor, mastery level Hide-and-Seek or simply just the quirky responses he came up with...

When he reached his teenaged years, we were all doomed.

I needed Nathan's smirks and wisecracks more than I cared to admit.

_Batman needed a Robin because the latter shines on the dark of the former..._

Ace arrived a moment later, tongue lolling as he gripped the slimy ball beneath his massive jaws. Nate patted the dog's broad head and said, "Come on, Ace, let's go," before leading the way to the service entrance. I surveyed the darkness once more, knowing there was nothing lurking but unable to shake the thought there could have been.

After all... there had been just an hour earlier...

"Coming?" I heard the boy call out to me.

After one last look, I turned and jogged up the paved path and to the door as he stood impatiently just inside. He closed the door behind me and muttered, "... letting the heat out."

I smirked again and countered with, "Okay, _Alfred_."

He went to punch me for the comment, but I had slightly better training. I not only avoided the blow, but snatched him up and threw him over my shoulder in one fluid motion. As he laughed and kicked in protest, Ace circled my feet whimpering until Nate told him to sit. The dog relented and a second later, I did as well, setting the six year old back on solid ground. I watched on as he kicked off his sneakers and then grabbed the handle to the door leading into the Manor, calling his canine companion to follow.

Bringing up the rear, I closed the door, leaving my shoes and coat on seeing I would be leaving shortly. As I reached the kitchen, I just missed Nate and Ace heading into the hallway and out of sight, leaving only Mattie and Terry. Dinner had all been put away, dishes in the dishwasher and the counters wiped clean. Despite their hard work, there was still a painful look on Terry's face, a worried one on Mattie's.

"You ready to go home?" I asked, trying to make my voice as pleasant and normal as possible.

Terry literally gulped and I had to do everything in my power not to laugh.

Mattie leaned into his arm, standing up on her toes to kiss his cheek, of which was pale despite the recent time he had spent in Arizona. She then said, "Call me later, okay?"

He nodded, still unable to make his lips form words.

I took a step towards the door I had just passed through, but paused when I realized Terry had yet to follow suit. Before I could say or do anything, Mattie pushed him in my direction, "Quit being a big baby."

He looked back to her for a moment, and then up at me, the same fear I had seen earlier in the broadcasting from him head to toe. Offering any sort of reassurance would have been futile at the moment, so I decided to simply lead the way outside to the driveway. He had made a grab for the the rear passenger side door but I stopped him with, "Why don't you sit up front with me, Terry?"

"Uh..." he managed, "Okay."

As I calmly took my place behind the wheel, I watched as he hurriedly shut his door and buckled in, cinching the strap tight and then gripping the sides of the seat as if he was holding on for his life. I smirked again as I inserted the key, woke up the engine and turned the headlights on. For a moment, I was tempted to ask what he wanted to listen to on the satellite radio but reasoned that the boy was having a hard enough time breathing regularly.

I maneuvered down the paved drive without uttering a word, the gates opening on command given I had already set a timer on the Manor's security system to allow a brief intermission from lock down. Although the most direct route to his house would have required a left hand turn, I chose to turn right, regrettably knowing it would set the boy off kilter slightly. A small price to pay in order to give us more time to talk.

I noticed him immediately tense when we headed in the wrong direction and rather than let him suffer in silence, I cleared my throat, "You know, Terry, we have quite a bit in common."

He looked at me, confusion starting to replace the fear etched into his face, "We do?"

"Yeah. A lot actually."

He hesitated before asking in a quiet voice, "What could... I possibly... have in common with Batman?"

Cruising the county road at fifty miles per an hour, I answered him, "First of all... I love video games. Any kind. If I didn't have a day job, I would sit and play FIFA or Call of Duty or heck... even Mario Party... all day long."

"Me too," he noted softly.

"Favorite soda... IBC Root Beer. Close second, obviously cream soda."

He smiled for a moment, "Yeah... my dad has a small fridge full of them in the basement."

Mattie had told me a similar fact once. As I noticed the tension easing from his body, I was very glad I had been able to recall the seemingly fruitless tidbit.

"Favorite Bond?"

He shrugged, the rigid form relaxing a fraction, then said, "I love Connery. I have all of the old posters... but... Daniel Craig, he's just so... I don't know, cool, I guess."

"Agreed. He brings a new energy to Bond... but I will bleed Scotland forever."

"Totally," Terry said as he continued to soften into the leather seat.

I went silent for a moment, centering myself for the course the conversation had to turn towards. We had all come to think of Terry as a member of the Family gradually, and not because he was was Mattie's friend-turned-boyfriend. For once upon a time he had been six years old, just like Nathan, innocent and exuberant and carefree. He had a loving mother and father and older sister and the big, bad world had yet to lay its claim on any fragment of his existence.

That was until his mother had been mugged and stabbed to death in the loading bay of the social services department she worked for.

It had been one of my very first cases after taking the mantle from Bruce. No viable evidence, no leads, nothing to indicate a single suspect in the death of Dr. Chase Miller. One of my first cases and seven years later it haunted me that I had been unable to find the scum who had taken her life for the spare change in her purse. All of the petty crimes, major league criminals and mass murdering monsters I had brought down and yet this boy who had somehow found his way into our lives would never have justice.

As strong as I was, psychically and mentally, I doubted I would ever be emotionally strong enough to admit it to him that it was one of my biggest failures. Right up there with losing my father and Dana, for the deaths of everyone in the observatory and handing the cowl back to Bruce when he needed me most.

Every hero falters...

"You know... when I was young... someone... kidnapped my parents. My father made it... spent years recovering physically and I doubt he ever really was the same mentally..."

"And your mom?" he asked without hesitating.

I pictured her briefly, tickling me to wake me up for school in the morning. Teaching me to tie my shoes. Water balloon wars in the summer and snow ball fights in the winter. Much like nearly every member of the Family, fate had struck its cold hard blow, taking pure joy and turning it into sorrow...

"She died."

His eyes fell to his lap and he returned to silence.

"I... knew right from the start. That she was gone... why she was gone... how... And... And even to this day, I really wish I hadn't... I wish I could have lived with some white lie... that she had died in an accident... anything but the truth," I paused to glance over at him, surprised when his gaze rose to meet mine. When I looked back to the road, I added, "I know your dad waited to tell you about what really happened to your mom. And I'm sure it was just as hard learning then as it would have been right from the beginning."

"I guess so," he replied. "I... kind of wish I didn't know either..."

There was a silent mile before I said, "What your dad did... what mine did... it was really all about being there for us... to support us... to protect us." My thoughts drifted away from the young man sitting beside me and even from the gathering that would be waiting for me back at the Cave. I found myself thinking of Bruce and Selina, their feud and its painful root. Continuing, I found myself saying, "There's different ways to protect people you care about. You can do it with your words... or you can do it with your actions..."

"Like being Batman?"

I sighed, "In a way... yes and no. Being Batman allows me to protect those that I care about... But... like tonight... it also puts them at risk of being hurt."

"Are they... are they going hurt Mr. Wayne?"

Even though I knew for a fact that they already had, I answered, "I don't know. Thankfully he's a tough old man. And doesn't take crap from anyone. You think I'm scary being Batman... you should have seen him."

That failed to have any impact on him. And then he said, "Oh I know... remember? He kicked Mattie's door in that one time?"

Before I could stop it, I found myself laughing, "Yeah, that's probably what most thugs felt when they had him chasing after them."

As I finally started making my way in the right direction, he said, "I... I promise I won't tell anyone."

"Oh, I know you won't. You're part of the Family, Terry... have been for a while. I just wanted to make sure you were okay... after tonight."

"I... I guess so. I... guess... I don't know," he stammered softly.

"Well... you've nothing to worry about. No one is going to be coming after you or your dad or your sister..."

Terry was quick to respond with, "But what about Leslie? And... Br- Mr. Wayne?"

I sighed as I turned onto East Main Street in Bristol, less than a mile from his house, "They'll be back soon... I'll see to that. And... it'll be a few days before you can probably visit Mattie again... and she might be out of school... but... you know you can call her anytime... or me, for that matter."

"Okay..."

We fell to silence once more until I had turned onto his street and pulled up next to his sister's dinged up blue Ford Focus. I cut the engine and lights but my hands still found their way back to the steering wheel. When I realized for the second time that evening that Terry was stuck in place, I found myself able to so something about it.

"When this all settles down... when... everyone... is back on their feet... I'll give you a proper tour of the Cave."

He looked up at me, the fear and the confusion gone, leaving awe in his eyes, "Really?"

"Really. After all, I'm sure the costume vault wasn't that interesting."

"Actually... it was pretty cool..."

"We'll start there, then. Remind me."

He nodded, undid his seat belt and said, "Thanks, Tim."

"You're welcome."

As he stood to get out of the car, he paused and leaned in to look at me once more, "I hope they're okay... when you find them."

I nodded, but it wasn't until after he shut the passenger side door that I said, "Me, too."

The near opposite of the drive to Terry's, the way back to was done by speeding as fast I dared. I had three minutes to spare on the timer I had set just as I passed through the gate, beating the computer crays before they went about resetting the lock down. While that had been an incentive in itself, I also wanted to check in with Barbara and find out what she had uncovered... if anything.

While I braked roughly, parking behind the garage, I reminded myself that she was the best at what she did. If there was something to be found, she would. If there wasn't anything to be found...

I pocketed the keys, jogged to the Manor and let myself in, the locks clicking loudly as I shut it just in time. There was no need to tour the house searching for the others, so I immediately trekked to the den and to the grandfather clock. Selina had no doubt already ushered her children to bed and hopefully herself. Given how badly she reacted earlier that evening to what had happened to Bruce and Leslie, there was no use in hurting her any further as we discussed cold, hard facts.

Flying down the granite steps, I instinctively looked to the computer bay, surprised to see Cass sitting on the counter, staring off into the darkness of the Cave. Although I made no effort to cover the sounds of my footfalls and even exhaled loudly as I jumped up onto the raised platform, her gaze never wavered. It wasn't until I moved to stand in front of her that she glanced up, her expression painfully solemn.

"Hey... Cass... it's going be okay," I immediately offered, my hands quick to reach up to gently hold one of hers.

Cass nodded and then shook her head, "I know... and it's not that."

"Then what's wrong?"

She closed her eyes before she replied, "I watched it."

Before I could ask her to clarify, I gazed up to the massive digital screen to see the video Manor's surveillance video window that I had briefly skimmed earlier was at a different point of time. When I had watched it, I had focused on the present, looking for unfamiliar faces and relieved to have seen only a battered Alfred and a worried Dick. Deep down, I had noted that there would have to be time set aside to study the footage from start to finish in order to ascertain what had exactly transpired.

Cass had decided to get a jump start.

Reluctantly, I rewound the video until before the explosion had rocked the French doors. I watched in crystal clear, high-definition as the glass, wood and wall splintered amidst a quick burst of smoke and flame. Not fifteen seconds later, dark garbed men began infiltrating the atrium and the position of camera showed them pausing and staring briefly at the same focal point. They charged as a group, but the first two flew to the ground as an unseen force struck them down. Another two attacked, pivoting and retreating to try to lure their prey into the open.

Cass kept her sight trained in the opposite direction of the screen, her hand still limp in mine.

Not a minute into the brawl, Bruce finally came into view as did Ace, the dog violently ripping at his own opponent while Bruce did his best to hold against another determined cluster. The dog disappeared , bolting into the corridor and I assumed it had been at Bruce's insistence as his lips moved in an angry shout. Perfectly timed as there had been one assassin drawing a weapon to fend off the big, sable canine.

When the second wave rushed in, along with a dark garbed man in a full red mask, Bruce was barely able to stand on his own. He was only momentarily revived when a barely in frame Alfred appeared and was gunned down by the man in the red mask. Even though there was no audio, I could only have imagined the bellow that had escaped Bruce's lips.

For a moment Bruce held his own again, but he had not been remotely well enough to take on an opponent in a simple spar match let alone the best and brightest of the League of Assassins, they quickly started to land lucky shots at his weakest points, suggesting they had read up on what injuries he had endured since the last time they had confronted him.

I found myself barely feeling Cass's hand squeeze mine when Bruce finally fell to the ground, Jason having violently struck him in the throat, abdomen and his already weakened left leg.

I squeezed back just as Bruce's image began to convulse.

Jason Todd would be found.

And he would pay.

^V^

"Why?" the Martian growled.

I remained silent as I dabbed at the dried blood beneath my nose, noting the pulsating pain had yet to ebb. As I looked up at the Martian, I pulled my hand away from my face and responded, "My nose is broken."

"And as I have already said, it will be tended to."

"Waiting will increase swelling, which will make it more difficult to set it and then delay proper healing."

His red eyes narrowed briefly as he studied my face and then without warning, the Martian reached a massive hand behind the back of my head,cradling it gently, and then with the other tweaked my nose millimeters back into alignment. Even if he had given me time to prepare myself, I doubted it would have lessened the pain any.

"What bedside manner you have," I snapped as I reached up to cup the base of my nose.

The door opened slightly and a small first aid kit floated in and moved across the room before finding its rightful place in his hand. The Martian opened it, removed a small strip of butterfly bandages and adhered them to my face. Upon letting me go, he broke and shook up a chemical ice pack and offered it to me without a word.

"Thank you," I responded sarcastically.

"You're welcome," his words came monotonously.

Having remained at the Watchtower with the Martian following his revelations into my involvement with my father and Jason's work, he had yet to make any attempt to enter my mind. When he had gazed upon my memories, and then shared them with Timothy, I had felt utterly powerless. For two decades, myself and my father's men had always utilized verifying prototypes of telekinetic blocking devices, the latest being the most effective and efficient.

That was until the Martian crushed it between his powerful fingers...

Still in the small meeting room, I opted to take a seat as I applied the pack to my face. Timothy striking me had been an utter shock, but given what he had seen through the Martian's eyes, it may have been warranted. My beloved and his followers loathed being tricked, thinking themselves masters of detection and unmatched at investigatory work. Thus, consistently keeping them guessing and even offering up a few surprises had always been par for the course when interacting with them.

"Why?" the Martian asked again.

"Why did I betray them?"

"Why were you dishonest to them," he responded as he took two strides closer to me, his eyes never blinking and stoic as marble. "You led them to believe that you've spent seven months running from your father and Jason Todd... your mind tells me that you have been lying since you first set foot in Gotham."

"In a way, yes... and in a way... no. I still do not know what my father intends for Bruce. I was-."

"Following his orders?" he interrupted me.

"Doing as I was told... Because if I hadn't, there would have been no way of knowing what little I do. And I was assured it was not an effort to bring him harm, that I swear."

"Ra's al Ghul is not known for doing more good than harm." Before I could attempt to fruitlessly defend my father, he proceeded with, "I believe you in that you do not know why... Which in itself is a cause for concern. Use you as the decoy... to be left behind... as to not be in the way."

"I was supposed to accompany them!" I found myself snapping back at him.

He glared at me for a moment, "And what exactly was your plan of escape?"

"Does it really matter? I have missed my only way back to them... to my father... my son..."

"And Jason," he added.

I leapt to my feet and swung my arm to slap his face, sent off balance when my hand passed right through his face. Anger filling me, I snarled, "Do not dare to assume anything, Martian."

"There is no need for assumptions. Just facts. Those which you can not deny... those that show that you were working with him, not running from him. Those that say that had things gone according to plan, you would be with him right now, standing over Bruce's body," his tone had remained steady but the volume of her voice had grown and his eyes had narrowed, "That you say you hate him but-."

Somehow, I managed to hold my ground and replied, "You know nothing."

He stared at me quietly for a moment, then I heard his voice in my mind, "Educate me, then."

Just as before, I felt his presence moving within me but unlike before, I showed no resistance. I let him travel in and out of my memories, to take note of my thoughts and to gaze upon my usually barricaded feelings. I heard his soft voice asking questions and my mind eliciting answers all on its own, my lips never forming a single word. He began to look back at my most recent memories of me being with my father, regarding his plans. My memories of talking with him and with Jason, looking for anything remotely evidential of where they had taken Bruce and why. The most recent of said discussions came to life in my mind, with the Martian listening on intently.

Not two weeks prior to my departure from the base in Urfa, where I would leave them to plot and scheme whilst I slowly made my way to the United States and to Gotham...

"Talia, that is enough," my father had replied as he returned his gaze to the massive marble table before him, littered with open books, marked maps and sketches.

"No... I have had enough. I refuse to be a part of this if you don't tell me what you intend to do with him." I had been tempted to swipe the materials to the floor with the back of my hand, but had settled with glowering at him.

"We've been over this, daughter," he had started to respond.

Jason, who had been standing just to my father's right hand side, also chimed in, "And we don't have to time to go over it again."

"You have done no such thing. All you have done is assure me that you will not harm him and yet you want me to lure them in this facade... while you send the best of the League with Jason to retrieve him."

My father set his pen down before looking back up at me, "You know as well as I that not even being truthful with the Detective will sway him to come. If there was a better way, then I would utilize it, but there is not."

With his eyes still on me, I had proceeded to say, "Very well... then all I ask is why. Why go through such extreme measures for him to meet Damian... why not let me take him to-."

Jason had smirked and interrupted me, "What makes you think that's the only reason we're taking him?"

I had paused before saying, "Because you won't tell me otherwise..."

My father had spoken up during the brief silence, "Jason, escort her to her quarters."

"Gladly," he had smirked again.

"Father, I-."

My father had risen from his chair suddenly and bellowed, "Now!"

Jason had begun to cross the room to reach for me, but I had already about faced and strode out of the room. Walking quickly down the corridor towards my chambers, Jason had been quick to catch up to me, "Talia, stop."

I had. A second before I spun around to backhand his face. He had caught my wrist instinctively, his grip firm but causing no pain. Jason had sighed and shook his head, "Don't rile the old man up."

"He has no cause to be riled... I do."

Jason had loosened his hold on me, still remaining light contact as I dropped it to my side. When he was beside my father, he always wore a stoic look upon his face, but in that moment in the empty corridor, there had been a crack in his armor. I had used it to my advantage and asked why they were really taking Bruce.

"Talia... you're not the only one that your father is hiding things from... But you seem to be the only one that has a problem with it. He said it best, if there was another way to do it, we would." Something had flickered in his eyes and I felt his other hand at my waist, slipping down to grasp my hip, "Thought you were over him."

"I will always care for him... he is the father of my son. The last thing I would want is harm to befall him. Unlike you... who would want anything but."

Jason's brow narrowed slightly as he had responded, "Is it still that obvious..."

"It is." Wanting to prevent a feud on the subject, I had simply offered, "Which is exactly why I do not trust him to arrive in one piece if you are the one that is retrieving him."

The Martian's probed further, revealing more arguments with Father and Jason He had then moved forward, to my actual departure from Urfa, bidding farewell to my child. As a Cessna was loaded and readied by my father's men, I had embraced Damien, kissing the dark curls on the top of his head.

"I cannot go with you?"

"No, my darling. It is safer for you to stay with your grandfather."

It was as if he was standing before me at that moment, a look in his eyes I had never seen before. "If you're going alone... and it's safer here... then who will protect you?"

I had taken him in to my arms once more, "Wise beyond your years..."

The Martian's voice brought me back to the present, "Such measures to introduce him to the child... It seems quite elaborate to be the truth... more befitting to be a ploy."

Opening my eyes, I found him sitting in front of me, although hovering in the air as opposed to conforming to a chair. I found myself utterly relaxed where I had been tense and uneasy before, making answering him all too easy, "One would think so. But my father has never been one to take the easy approach."

"Why now? After so many years?"

I hesitated before answering, "My father always wanted Bruce as an ally, to train his forces... to sire his heir. Where my father could not obtain the former, he was able to have the latter. I had wanted to tell Bruce from the beginning, but my father believed it would have only led to more hostility between them. As to why he changed his mind after so much time... Perhaps it is because the Demon's Head chooses when and where with every aspect of his life. And of the lives he surrounds himself with. Because the Lazarus Pit won't last forever. Because perhaps he wants to make amends."

The Martian rose to his feet and stepped back, ushering me to do the same.

As he started to walk away from me, I inquired, "Is this to mean you're satisfied with my answers?"

He paused, "I assure you, they offer no satisfaction... Your words are truthful... Although I fear they come too late and offer too little. But they will be waiting for their own answers."

As when we had arrived at the Watchtower, we encountered no others on the trek to the teleportation bay and upon reaching it, were swiftly returned to the Cave without hesitation nor hurdle. When the flash of light and shift in gravity subsided, I gazed to my left to see the Martian standing by my side. Looking to my right, I found angry faces a few yards away and no chance of escape in sight. Literally and figuratively.

"Good, you're back," I heard Timothy call out from the computer bay. He had already donned his suit, all but the cowl that sat idly by on the counter in front of him. I had seen Bruce in a similar state of partial guise many times, the dark, intimidating armor and cape contrasted only by the human face that was above it. It had always seemed to chip away at his presence, showcasing more man than bat...

Looking to just behind him, the daughter of David Cain was ready for battle as well, her full-face mask already in place. Although she tried to conceal it, there was notable tension in her stance, unbecoming on such a master of her art. Before I could utter a word, Richard emerged from the costume vault, his black and blue uniform on and his domino mask concealing a mere portion of his face. His fists were clenched as the Martian and I climbed up the short steps to join them on the platform, the tension thick enough to silence the expansive cavern.

"Is the lady of the house not joining us?"

Cain's daughter tensed even further, sprung tightly enough to strike with the speed and veracity of a monocle cobra. Richard took to standing beside her, setting a two-tone gloved hand on her shoulder as if that would prevent her from doing what she did best. Timothy was the only one to reply, his body language far too stoic as he said, "You are dealing with me... and only me."

"Do your worst," I found myself saying, while dabbing a finger at my bandaged nose.

"Why?" Richard stepped forward and replied, "Because you've already done yours?"

"I've done noth-."

Timothy took two strides closer to me in a fraction of a second, the gravel in his voice belying his exposed face, "Don't, don't feign innocence. Not now. Not after what you've done."

"And what is that I have done, Timothy?"

His scowl deepened as he suddenly lunged forward, grabbing me roughly by the wrist and dragging me to stand in front of the massive monitor with him. The cold glare in his eyes was enough to tell me to stay put, and I watched on as he jabbed at the keyboard briefly. Security footage came onto the screen and he leaned closer to me, growling in my ear, "Let's see your handy work."

It took me no more than the blink of an eye to realize what my _handy work_ referred to as I instantly recognized the rear atrium of the manor on the screen. I reached to hit pause on the keyboard, not wanting to see what Jason and his men had done, especially since it had no doubt contributed to the scowls surrounding me. My father had ordered Jason to apprehend Bruce alive, but there was no questioning what amount of force had been used...

Timothy grabbed my wrist again, twisting my arm behind my back without warning, "You will watch... you will see what your lies have done..."

The first wave of league members had been no match for Bruce.

_My beloved..._

The second had forced him to tire, allowing them better luck.

_Forgive me..._

The last had left him on the ground gasping for breath.

_There was no other way..._

And that was all before Jason had his chance.

"Enough," I managed, my voice far weaker than I had intended it to be.

A moment later, we had all heard the echoed, "Enough?"

Timothy's grip on my arm loosened as we simultaneously turned to see a blood shot-eyed figure standing behind us, her dark hair damp, loose and chaotic, her confident presence reduced to a quiet voice and a pale face. I watched as Richard move towards her, "Selina, let's go upstairs..."

"Is... that what they did to him?"

"Selina, please..." Richard offered again, knowing better than to try to touch her as he had with Cain's daughter. The look in the thief's eyes suddenly shifted, from pain and concern to pure rage.

Before either Richard or Timothy could react, she lunged at me. Her open hands delivered quick, painful blows to my face and neck, manicured nails knowing all of the right places that tore open with ease. I instinctively went on the defense, throwing in two solid strikes to her solar plexus amidst the blocks. As I readied myself to move into offensive maneuvers, Timothy's Lycra covered arms ensnared me from behind and forced us to separate.

Where I had been quick to acquiesce, the thief slashed out at Richard, freeing herself before charging back at me once more. As he tried to take hold of her, she spun around and jabbed at his still healing shoulder, not willing to be tamed. Timothy pivoted and tried to absorb some of the strikes but she managed to still hit my cheek bone hard enough for my teeth to rattle.

Given that the hold around me was unyielding, there was little I could do as a means of protecting myself. I narrowly dodged her fists and nails, Timothy doing his best to shield me from the worst of it given that he was already garbed for protection. Her eyes were a vibrant green, much too vibrant and close for my taste. The Martian stepped between us as a means of helping them pull us apart once more, the look on his usually stoic face suggesting he was prepared to do his part if need be. Richard's grimace showed the effort he was using to hold her back, as did the muttered curses he was letting through his lips.

The pale, soft look of confusion on her face was gone, her brow low and angry, her lips pulled back in a sneer. "You're not walking out of here, bitch, not until you're in a limp, bloody heap like Bruce was!"

"Selina, please!" Richard yelled.

I forced myself to relax in Timothy's hold and was rewarded by his releasing me willingly. He asked the Martian to take me to the medical bay but I refused, saying, "It's nothing. Just a scratch."

The thief growled lowly, "I'll show you a scratch!"

"Take her upstairs," Timothy snapped and waited until Richard had half dragged-half carried the thief away, her protests echoing through the cavern. "I will tell you one thing, Talia... you have made enemies here tonight. And that will be the first and last time I save you."

"I don't need you to save me..."

He stared down at me, "You've endangered the lives of her family... of her children... her husband. If there was no one here to stop her... you wouldn't stand a chance."

As I gently touched the laceration over the ragged scar on my cheek, I held my tongue.

^V^

Somehow, I had managed to eat most of my dinner and keep it down.

Somehow, I had managed to put on a brave front for Terry and my little brother and my mother.

Somehow, my Family had found itself in the clutches of another madman, another who had his sights set on the demise of my father...

My mother and Tim sitting me down to explain things had not helped much, in fact, it had only caused my already off-kilter mind to start spinning in faster circles. Nevertheless, I still was capable of walking, talking, breathing and carrying on as if everything was going to be fine. Just a hiccup, an unexpected turn of events with an easy fix. They just had to convince the woman that had betrayed all of them to help find which secret hideaway the League of Assassins had taken Dad and Leslie to. A walk in the park...

"I... I want you to come with me, when Tim drops me off."

I had been staring at nothing in particular when Terry's quiet voice found my ears. I focused on his face before replying, "I doubt he will let me."

"Who's going to protect me then?"

Smirked, I responded, "Like he said... Batman doesn't kill."

He had been less capable of maintaining his composure since I had led him into the costume vault earlier that evening. Looking back to the dreadful night I had learned of the Family secret, I recalled being angry, not afraid. In all fairness, there had been no reason for me to be fearful of my father or any other relative. Terry, although not justified, felt he had plenty to be scared of...

"Yeah... just much worse," he sighed. After a moment, he looked at me in the eyes and added, "Sorry... here I am worried about something stupid when you have something real to worry about."

I shrugged and offered, "Your misery is a good distraction."

"Oh? Shall I stub my toe?"

"Wouldn't hurt," I smiled, the need to pretend ebbing slightly.

"Then step in Ace doo-doo?"

Unable to hold it back, I snickered softly, "That would be nice."

Terry, still staring at me, took a step closer, "Anything to help. I mean it."

"I know," I sighed before leaning in and embracing him, feeling his chin rest on my shoulder.

Before I could say anything else, the sound of the service entrance door opening interrupted me, followed by footsteps belonging to Tim, Nate and Ace. We released one another just as they came into view, my brother and Ace quickly heading on their way by the kitchen and into the corridor. Tim paused and appraised us with a soft look on his face, of which he paired with an even-toned, "You ready to go home?"

I heard Terry gulp air beside me and noticed as Tim fought the urge to laugh from the other side of the room. I leaned against the troubled soul next to me, standing up on my tip-toes in order to kiss his cheek. When I told him to call me later, Terry managed to nod, look down at me briefly before his gaze returned to Tim. I nudged him forward and Tim nodded his sign of thanks to me. When they disappeared out of sight, I remained in the kitchen until the door open and shut one more time.

Alone again...

As much as I wanted to sneak down into the Cave to see what else I could learn about the tragedy at hand, I found myself drawn in the opposite direction of the grandfather clock entrance. Taking the stairs at a painfully slow pace, I couldn't help but think back to racing down them earlier, Terry at my side out of breath and my father bellowing from behind us. Somehow, it felt as if it had just happened while at the same time being forever ago...

_Run downstairs… all of the way, Mattie..._

As always, my immediate concern had been for my father, even before I had locked Terry and myself in the vault. With Tim, Dick, Cass and even my mother elsewhere, he had literally been alone in defending the Manor. Granted, Alfred had gone to his rescue but even that had ended with Dick taking him to the Free Clinic.

Reaching the third floor, I spotted my mother just leaving Nathan's room, no doubt having already tucked him in for the night. As much as I wanted to ask what she had told him, I kept my mouth shut as I approached her. She was quick to ask if I was okay, and rather than lie, I answered, "I don't know..."

"If you need me, you come get me, okay?" she offered.

I bit my lip, looked up at her and said, "Same goes for you."

Without another word, I made may way to my bedroom, glancing back once more at her before closing the door. Automatically, I went through the motions of heading to the bathroom to shower and change for the night. I could have easily just put on cotton shorts and tee shirt for pajamas, but I found myself putting on black leggings, a pink Lycra tank top and then a long sleeved gray shirt. Even with Taffy doing her best to keep me company with her rumbling purrs and playful pawing, the feline distraction just wasn't enough.

_How are you going to get downstairs with the power out?_

My last words to Dad had been solely of my concern for him, my wanting to know what his plans were to reach safety. It had been a waste of breath to argue with him, at that moment or any other. He had spent his life putting others before himself, and with unwelcome guests literally knocking at the door, there was no chance of him changing tunes.

He had kissed my forehead, as if it was to say, "Good night, Kitten."

But instead...

_Don't worry about me... Just go..._

A lump rose up into my throat when realizations forced its way into acceptance.

He had no intentions of going down to the Cave... of seeking safety...

My cell phone chirped from the bathroom counter, causing me to physically jerk with surprise. Upon retrieving it, I smiled to see it was a text message from Terry, claiming he was alive and well. Shedding my morbid thoughts, I texted him back: Welcome to the Family!

His reply came a moment later: In lieu of flowers, please send turkey club sandwiches and curly fries.

I moved to sit on my bed, opting to exchange written messages with him as opposed to calling him. Words quickly turned to funny pictures we took of ourselves, editing them in an application that left our figures contorted and color distorted. I took pictures of Taffy and put a digital mustache and glasses on her. Terry responded by drawing a face on his foot, making the toes wild, orange hair.

For the better part of an hour, I was a teenager and all was well.

The last few days finally caught up with me and I felt myself dozing off, shaking awake when I felt my phone vibrate with a new message. A little after eleven, I said good night to Terry, making a kissy face and sending that as a picture. Two minutes later, he sent me one of him with a similar expression, although his mouth filled with foamy toothpaste.

Yawning, I forced myself off of my bed to connect my phone to its charger on my dresser, turn the over head lights out and then finally kick my feet free of socks before climbing under the covers. Taffy was quick to snuggle up in the small of my back, her purr just barely audible. In the dark, I found myself listening to the slightest of sounds in the silent house.

Nathan's television, just loud enough to detect through the wall.

The hum of my laptop on my desk.

My heart beating in my chest.

The sounds I did not hear began to slowly register, namely the near silent footfalls of my father coming down the hall. The faintest creak as he cracked the door to check in on me.

_Don't worry about me.._

I had held strong for the most part.

_Just go..._

Soft sniffles sounded before I realized they were coming from me. I pushed my face into my pillow, feeling the material instantly absorb my tears. Taffy rose to her feet and began to nuzzle my shoulder, offering her endless feline affection. Although I appreciated her efforts, it wasn't what I needed.

I needed to hear those footsteps. The door creak. The gentle kiss on my forehead.

_Good night, kitten..._

"Selina! Just wait a minute!"

I inhaled sharply as I shot up in bed, shocked not to hear Dick's voice, but the angry tone that filled it. Listening closely, I heard feet moving quickly down the carpeted hall, accompanied by soft muttering that I presumed belonged to my mother. The last I had known, she had gone to the master bedroom to recover from the day, having promised to be there if I needed her. Dick's heavier steps followed, both seeming to pause at the end of the corridor. With their voices muted, I was torn between laying back down or getting up to investigate.

As I crossed my room in bare feet, I reasoned that I was my father's daughter...

With my momentary emotional lapse having vanished, I felt my mind sharpening, thinking back to lessons from Cass. I pressed my ear to the door first before slowly turning the knob and pulling it back. I first looked for any signs of movement or shadows and upon seeing none, I ventured to peer into the hall. Knowing they were at the far end of the hall, there had been no point in looking towards the stairs. Using the small credenza as a cover, I inched up to kneel beside it, taking a deep breath before gazing towards my parents' bedroom.

Aside from mumbled voices, there was no sign of them.

I could have gone back into my room. Gotten back into bed. Waited until the morning to ask what had happened.

As I quickly made my way towards the partially ajar double doors, I decided the alternative would have allowed me to sleep more soundly. Seeking cover once more, I opted not to risk looking in, at least not right away. Relying on my hearing, I detected that Dick's tone had softened considerably and the low growl from my mother had dissipated entirely.

No longer growling... instead she was crying.

Over her sobs, I hear Dick offering soothing words and sounds, telling her it was okay, that Talia had deserved worse and the my dad would be okay.

She drew a long breath, regaining some composure before responding, "I saw the video, Dick, I saw what they... he's anything but okay..."

"Like he hasn't been through worse? Fighting the League of Assassins is the equivalent of a paper cut in his medical records."

My mother responded in a defeated voice, "And fighting Jason Todd?"

"Okay... that's more like tennis elbow." There was a brief pause before he added, "It wasn't pretty... But he just proved what he could endure with the Joker. And no matter what he has become, Jason isn't an iota of that lunatic."

Before she could respond, a phone chirped and Dick answered it with, "Babs? No we're fine... I'll be down in a bit... He did? That's great... I bet he is, the old coot... Let him know I'll be back down first thing in the morning. Okay... Bye."

"Alfred?" a voice asked, sounding slightly more like my mother.

"Yeah, he just woke up... he's impressed with Dr. Bryce's work now that he has seen it first hand. He's also worried about breakfast as he promised Mattie he was taking care of it."

"I'll buy out the bakery if it means he can come home," she noted before sighing. A beat later, there was an awkward laugh and, "I broke a nail."

"It's probably lodged in Talia's face," Dick said, "Guess you never needed those metal claws all of those years."

"Guess not... I... I lost it. After that video... I saw only red. She's damn lucky you all were there... I'd be hanging her head on a spike."

Dick cleared his throat and replied, "As much as I would love to see that right about now... we do need her. As much as I hate to say it, she is our best chance at finding them."

"I thought she didn't know anything worthwhile?" my mother inquired.

"At this point... I'll take what I can get."

As I crouched just behind the left hand door, I had the sudden urge to sniff through my nose, my tears from minutes earlier coming back to haunt me. Doing so would have blown my cover, but retreating in order to clear my nostrils was just as unappealing. Thankfully my next course of action was decided for me as I heard my mother say, "Well.. you better get back down there... finish things up... and send Mattie in on your way out."

Busted.

I rose to my feet but opted to remain concealed behind the door until Dick passed by. He offered a smile but his eyes failed to match the gesture. Dick nodded towards the master bedroom, saying, "Hey, fancy meeting you here-."

I cut him off by speaking softly, "Oops."

Rather than one of his trademark quips, Dick put a hand on my shoulder and squeezed it gently. Without a word, he let go and silently proceeded down the hall and towards the stairs. When he was out of my line of sight, I drew a breath before turning to face my mother, my eyes finding her sitting on the edge of the bed. She patted the empty space beside her and I slowly crossed the room to join her.

The closer I became, the more disheveled she appeared. A long lock of hair was pulled loose from her ponytail, the remainder of the contained her mused as if from running about. There was a small red splotch of skin on her right cheek that already had tell tale signs of bruising. The left sleeve of her shirt was torn where it connected to the collar, exposing an abrasion. And just as she had remarked moments earlier, her right index finger was missing most of its manicured pearl colored nail.

"You're supposed to use your words," I offered in as steady of a voice as I could muster.

My mother smiled, nodding before saying, "I had no words to use."

"This means no dessert. No TV. No cell phone. No sleepover," I mimicked my father's fruitless attempts at punishment that had failed over the years.

Mom pouted, then declared, "That's not fair."

For a moment, I had nearly uttered _Life's not fair_, his steadfast reply to my complaints, but opted not to. Namely, because at that given moment, life was being utterly unfair. Instead, I climbed up on the bed beside her, tucking my left leg under myself while letting the other drape over the side. My mother moved to mirror the action, even letting her hands rest in her lap just as mine were.

"Does it hurt?" I asked.

She smiled sadly before responding with, "Nope."

I smirked for a moment, uncertain as to what to say next. I felt I should apologize for eavesdropping but she didn't seem to be too upset about it. Her distant gaze said I could have stolen the Jaguar out of the garage for a joy ride and it would have been the least of her worries.

"Mattie?"

"Yeah, Mom?" I replied, even though her voice didn't sound anything like my mother.

Her eyes fell to her hands again, this time mine followed hers. It was the first time I had noticed that Dad's wedding band was on her thumb, just as when he had been in the hospital after the Joker. Mom had explained at the time that she was holding it hostage, refusing to return it to him until he came home in one piece. She had worn it everyday when we had visited him and continued to do so during those first painful few weeks after he had been released. In fact, she hadn't given it back to him until their anniversary.

No doubt her rule had been renewed, keeping it safe until he returned.

She caught me looking at it and sighed, "Your father is forgetful."

"No he's not. He means everything he does, Mom."

Nodding slowly, she agreed in a quiet voice, "That he does. And tonight, he protected you. Terry... Alfred and Leslie."

"And he meant to," I said, trying not to think of the look in his eyes when we had parted ways at the stairwell earlier that evening. After a beat, I asked what had happened to her.

It took a moment, but she managed to respond with, "I did something I shouldn't have... I... I was upset and rather than take a step away from what had upset me... I let my emotions control my actions."

"Cass says that's a mistake in battle."

Mom agreed, "It's a mistake in anything."

"Did you hurt her? Talia?"

She nodded, her voice barely above a whisper, "Yes."

"More than she hurt you?"

Her lip trembled and there was a flash of wet in her green eyes, "Nothing will ever hurt me as badly as what she did."

I noticed that she had not said _to me_.

I felt it was safe to assume that she had meant _to your father_ instead.

^V^

Everything was blurry.

Sights, sounds, sensations.

Blurred by a white hot ball of agony.

Full consciousness seemed well out of my reach, all of my focus on keeping my lungs working despite the pain it caused. Unwanted stimuli of my environment jostling my body was sending flashes of lightning up my leg, through my chest and to the my head.

Even the simple task of opening my eyes was impossible, unwilling to yield to light.

Muffled sounds and the jump from hot to cold temperatures...

I had been near death enough times to reason that I was a stone's throw away once more.

In fact, it was eerily reminiscent of those early days after falling to Pasqualle's bullets. For nearly weeks, I had been confused by lights, sounds and movement... the pain overwhelming to the point it had been frightening. With the added hurdle of having lost all forms of communication and familiar faces suddenly turned foreign, it had been a small piece of Hell I had no desire to revisit.

If anything, this had been slightly better I had some of my wits about me. That in itself suggested that the number and severity of seizures I had endured since the fight in the atrium had yet to dissolve my brain. At least not all of it.

There were points where I had felt Leslie's presence, but I was unsure if it was reality or just a figment of my imagination. I had not specifically heard her voice or seen her face, but in faint moments of lucidity, I had felt her beside me, willing me to live. It was a subconscious feeling no doubt born from countless nights she had spare me from certain death.

_Everything is going to be all right..._

She had never let me down.

But I had failed her time and time again...

As brief moments where I felt more human than cadaver came more frequently, I tried my best to put the pieces of the attack together. A feat unto itself given that opening my eyes was a undefeated hurdle. I knew for certain the events of the day leading up to the assault, namely, spending most of the day fighting with and avoiding Selina. As much as I hated to, that in itself had distracted me from the full alert I should have maintained while Talia was in the Manor.

I should have seen them coming long before they had literally showed up on my doorstep...

No... it wasn't Selina's fault.

I had disrespected her, hurt her, lied to her again for the so-called greater good.

There was no need to blame her for clouding my judgment or deterring my attention while having Talia under our roof. Just as there had been no need to have Talia there to begin with as she would have been just as safe in a cell on the Watchtower. A mistake I had willingly defended despite the risk it had inevitably brought to my home. To my Family.

Selina wasn't to blame and even despite her once again betraying me, there had been no point in directing it even at Talia.

It was mine and mine alone...

The fight itself was hazy at best. An endless stream of black-garbed men, all yielding the telltale the skill set of the League of Assassins. Had I been a decade younger, there would have been no issue in taking them out single-handed. Ra's always had sent his best and brightest where I was involved, but even then they had never been an equal match.

But I wasn't a decade younger...

There had been one that had stood out amongst the others, sporting a red mask, walking slowly with the confidence of a proven warrior. There had been no doubt in my mind as to who was beneath the mask, even though I had buried him nearly seventeen years prior. I distinctly recalled wondering if he was sporting his trademark smirk beneath the glossy red cover...

Jason.

Jason with a gun in his hands, as heartbreaking as that moment when Dick had killed the bank robber...

But Jason had not shot a criminal to spare the lives of others.

He had shot Alfred...

The rest... a haze of pain and darkness.

The first hint of life still flowing through my veins had been when a sudden jostle had caused torso to shift, resulting in the crushed bones within to move as well. The pain had been enough to jump start my brain and then a moment later, to cause me to lose consciousness. It had been long enough, however, for that brief sensation that Leslie was there.

My suspicions were confirmed when I heard muted voices, sounding distant but I rationalized that they were right beside me. I recognized Leslie's instantly even though I had been unable to make out the words. She was upset, most likely afraid of the other voice, a loud, growl.

Jason...

More darkness. Then movement and blinding brightness even through my eyelids but only for a moment.

Then dreaded darkness.

And chirps. Field crickets, deafeningly playing sharp tunes. Nearly as loud as the sound of engines slowing... plane engines.

We were outside...

Leslie's presence had grown faint temporarily but there were others, breathing over me, moving me, talking in garbled tongues.

When the movement stopped, the pain did not ebb. But wherever they were taking me, Leslie would be there waiting.

Unless...

No.

Don't travel down that path.

I made another valiant attempt to focus on my surroundings, pushing the thoughts of any harm coming to Leslie out of my mind. The air was humid, painfully hot air and yet my eyelids were not blasted with blinding light. Night time but was still easily eighty degrees...

Someone was screaming. Leslie...

No... something.

Focus, you damn fool.

The garbled voices made their way to my ear drums once more as the agonizing movement started up again. Rather than succumb to the pain once more, I forced myself to inhale and exhale at regular intervals, not permitting my brain to black out again.

Inhale.

Exhale.

Inhale...

Lilies.

Selina adored lilies. I used to surprise her every week with a dozen of a new variety or color each week.

I used to joke that they were practically for Isis and Taffy as they enjoyed mangling the petals.

I couldn't remember the last time I had bought her lilies...

The screeching continued.

Inhale.

Exhale...

Water. Moving water. More engine sounds, more voices. The air dropped suddenly in temperature but remained damp, genuinely refreshing my painful flesh.

But what about Leslie...

Something touched my brow gently and it took more effort than necessary to open my eyes, even for a moment. A bright light flashed into each and I was quick to close them.

It was still dark, but I was able to make out shadows of figures, walking by, not even looking down at me. Someone shouted ahead and the world around me lurched forward.

For the first time since the fight in the Manor, I heard words clearly enough to understand them.

A man's voice, "Sedation is wearing off."

"Good," another voiced hovered over me, "And perfect timing at that."

"Shall I bring the doctor?"

There was a moment of only water lapping and an engine chugging before I heard, "No... She'll just get upset again when we separate them... and we don't need that."

I was unsure if they remained beside me but was hesitant to confirm it by looking. I was right, Leslie wasn't with me... taken away but for what reason?

The water began to echo as the air grew cooler.

Another blast of shrieks, magnified as they bounced off the walls surrounding us.

I had heard that sound nearly every night for the last twenty years... even longer if I counted my nightmares.

They were bats. And we were disturbing their cave.

The lilies... I had smelled them before... a sweet, unique scent.

The haze in my mind cleared briefly, allowing me to think back almost a decade.

"Oh Bruce..." Selina had exclaimed as she admired the log stemmed, indigo hued flowers, "They're beautiful."

I had stood behind her, putting my arms around her waist as she had pulled one from the vase, taking in its aroma and then exhaling slowly. Selina had then held it up to my nose for me to admire it. While I had sniffed it, she had pulled the flower back suddenly and then smacked me in the face with it, laughter escaping her.

Inhale...

"Ow..."

"Oh stop, big baby," she had remarked, returning the floral gem back to its brethren. "A Flame Lily... right?"

"Yes. Had them flown in from Central Africa."

Selina had shaken her head, smiling as she had turned to face me, "They have them at the florist in Bryanttown. Show off..."

"Me? Show off? Never."

She had stepped closer, taking my chin into manicured nails, "Have you _seen_ the contents of the basement?"

Selina... What I wouldn't give to import every lily from across the globe if it meant righting the immeasurable wrongs... If it meant one more sly smile... One more chide remark...

Talia had not been entirely truthful, but nor had her words been completely false.

No doubt the others thought every syllable from her mouth had been slander.

She had been lying about her father's men following a false lead to the base of operations in Molomba... But had she been hinting at it all along for a reason? Telling me the truth in between the lies?

Water moving... echoing...

The bats...

They certainly sounded much bigger than their North American brethren that I had come to know.

The climate... the flowers... the bats...

The base schematics fluttered in my foggy mind for a moment. Subterranean, like so many of his lairs, hidden from the eyes in the sky... even Kryptonian eyes...

"Bruce?"

My lids snapped open, clarity finding me for the first time since the alarms had sounded at the Manor. Still horizontal in a gurney, I found myself looking up into the clear, blue eyes of my fellow captive. Despite our predicament, there was no fear in her face, just relief.

"How long..." a raspy, weak shadow of my voice croaked.

"Two days. As far as I can tell... they took my watch... my phone..." she spoke softly before squeezing my left hand.

"Hurt... you?" I managed, my eyes trying to find any sign of injury on her form as it sat bedside.

She shook her head, "No. Just you."

I tried to clear my bone-dry throat but it only made talking more difficult, "Jason... did he say... anything?"

Leslie frowned for a fraction of a second before answering, "Just threats. To you. If I didn't do as I was told."

The image of Jason's sly smile flashed before my eyes. Of him firing squarely at Alfred.

I found myself whispering, "Alfred..."

Weakness twinged in her eyes for a moment, "He had a strong pulse before they took me away from him. Looks like the bullet was just under the collar bone..."

Amidst the pain pulsing in nearly every inch of my body, I felt anger surfacing as well.

Before I could say another word, I watched as Leslie turned away suddenly, worry taking over her face. I tried to look as well but even the act of turning my head was agony. I was supposed to protect her and I couldn't even lift a finger...

Footsteps.

Leslie's eyes widening.

A chill made its way down my spine.

Then, "An unfortunate act carried out on a whim. One that I would never have ordered... nor condoned."

Leslie's hand gripped mine as if holding on for her life.

A subconscious act as her eyes never left our visitor's face.

He paused beside her, offering a curt nod before moving his gaze to me, "As are the injuries you have unnecessarily endured. My sincerest apologies, Detective."

^V^


End file.
